


Don't Like Holding On, But I Can't Let Go

by Sonny



Series: The RIO Chronicles [1]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, M/M, POV First Person, Post Season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-19
Updated: 2007-06-19
Packaged: 2017-10-13 17:46:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 40,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/139989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonny/pseuds/Sonny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-513 fic - (no idea for placement, but future fic ; could be one or two years); Something is bothering Brian... and this causes Michael some deep moments of contemplation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A portion of this came out of me because of a snippet of fic someone wrote (on a whim) and sent to me in an email. I responded back in "MICHAEL's Voice". I was, actually, NOT going to do anything with this, but... uhm... since I've hit a major dryspell... I re-read it a few weeks ago, liked/loved it all over again and asked this *someone* if it was okey-dokey for me to take the writing back and post. Or do with it whatever I wanted.

**Michael's POV** :

  
How does he do it? I want to know the secret.

How does he continue to NOT feel a thing, while I feel too much? And when will I ever learn?

Is that our shtick? The glue that holds us together? I'm the "cog" in his "wheel"? The cheap, generic jelly to his gourmet, extra smooth peanut butter?

Most cars can't run without gasoline. Word is... Michael Novotny can't move a finger without Brian Kinney.

Or is it that Kinney won't join the human race unless Novotny is a vital part?

Some days I think both, others I'm sure it depends. Could go either way.

One thing I **do** know... it's not a good situation when you're laying in bed with your husband, in the bedroom you share, in the home you two own, unable to sleep and all you can think about is...

...what the hell is wrong with Brian...???

When instances keep niggling at your brain, telling you this time is different. This time there's trouble, or tragedy, afoot.

Brian's actions are off-kilter, beyond the norm. HIS norm. He's never been like this... ever...

I first noticed this mechanism when Brian took me to his home and I met his mother, Joan Kinney. Joan made Ma look like Donna Reed or June Cleaver. I thought all mothers were like mine. That they always gave off this sense of peacefulness, kindness; their heart on their sleeves for every child after their own pregnancies.

Joan chilled me to the bone. It wasn't anything she did to me, it was how she handled Brian. Her touch wasn't conscious, but deliberate. She meant to cause pain, anger and shame. Ma would hurt me, swats about my head and pinches to my leftover baby fat, but they soon were followed by hugs that squeezed the breath right out of me and a million moist, lipstick-tinged kisses.

Joan didn't even have a light in her eyes or a smile on her lips. She looked... frozen. As if she'd grown to despise the very sight of her own son. Always interesting to hear the clinking of ice cubes, from her glass of scotch, sounding like the beat of her heart. Joan scared me... but nothing prepared me for Jack, Brian's father.  
I almost thanked God for sparing me the aggravation of having a parent like Mr. Kinney. And I called him "Mister" the second we met. Brian always played it tough, especially when I was around. He obeyed rules, did his daily chores, except Jack would find ways to make stuff up to shame Brian. Find fault with any and everything Brian did, even when he was on his best behavior.

The belittling, the constant embarrassments caused us to cancel those Kinney sleep-overs. We agreed my house would be our permanent stomping grounds.

See... for one or two nights, I was assured Brian was safe from harm. He could sleep a sound slumber. And I could watch over him, protect him like I'd wanted to do from the first day I met him.

Weird? Huh? Me... protecting Brian? Yeah, I had lofty ideas for my small size and limp, peer-pressured bravery. And... I realized he didn't need me to do this for him, but there were times when I knew he sought me out for comfort's sake. He'd tease and taunt, make me feel like crap and awful, rattled my cage and get me so frustrated until I couldn't see straight.

But sometimes... I turned out to be the only true thing Brian could count on. If I fought back with my own quips, he has this strange way of knowing he's alive and breathing properly. The world hasn't gone to complete shit. He has other people in his life, but he'll return to me time and time again. I can almost guarantee the minute he'll show up or call me.

Please... how can I not think this is so? My role in his world?

Years ago, I used to not mind, then the pressures got to be too much. My life moved forward, while Brian wanted to keep life's motion in neutral. Quiet threats, as he revved the engine.

Not only could I not stand his refusal to change, but the way he made me feel. Like I was no better than Jack or Joan. I was yet another person in his life who had failed him. He lost faith in me, my innocent perfections. Didn't sit well in my gut.

Now, these days, we're where we were when he came back from college.

Back then, I'd gone stale, dormant in my future goals, kind of "winging it" on the off-chance I got this sucker right. Brian had his accredited degree and a great paying job, with a bright future ahead of him. Both of us with the world at our feet, Brian with an unfair advantage.

Our friendship had become strained. We tried to find our feet back on solid ground. How were we going to carry on as best friends? What would our relationship look like and feel to us after so many years apart?

Right now, neither of us are stagnant, complacent, but we're not moving forward, either. We're not even stuck in a rut, gear in neutral, prepared to gun the gas pedal once we're ready to take off.

We're not easily malleable that we could immediately forget what's happened between us and what happened to us individually when we were apart. It's not so clear cut like when we were younger.

I think we both discovered what happened this time was near detrimental to us. It could very well have destroyed our very foundation. It's taken us, at different paces in facing our immortalities, to know what we have together is more precious than family.

We were NEVER to fuck with that ever again.

I've always allowed Brian breathing space, but now I'm not sure the space I give is enough. I feel like I need to be active. I'll give him room to grow and learn on his own, but I won't let him be lonely.  
People thought I was silent because I was weak or ignorant to what Brian was. Stars were in my eyes with lust for my best friend. Little did they know... how thin my patience could wear with Brian Kinney.

Brian had his one night stands, then his relationship with Justin and near wedding. Now he was back to tricks, but even thinning those out to almost nil.

I had my own occasional one night stands, then David. Now I have Ben... Hunter and Jenny and my life here at my home. My marriage is solid, we're happy. I've gotten the idea life can change in an instant and I make every day special.

Brian and I would never jeopardize what we have.

Everyone is happy... I hope... and that's why I can't stop thinking or worrying about Brian.

I'm back in my "best friend" slot, where I was 20 years ago, and I'm wishing I had the ability to be in two places at once.

Tonight someone mentioned the past, brought up Vic... and Brian went white as a sheet. No one bothered to notice but me. Brian called an end to his night after that moment. When he wished everyone "goodbye" he simply waved and put his jacket on. I followed, unclear to why it felt like Brian was being chased out of the room. He dragged me off into a secluded portion of the house, where shadows hid us from curious eyes. He placed his hands at my hips, drew me close and kissed me.

I would have written this moment off as a fluke had he not lingered too long, lost in a firm choke or a dry, painful sob. He was too quick to hug me... burying his face in my neck... tender press of lips to my throat, sending tingles down my spine... then he was gone.

Proper Brian Kinney exit. Me left with my mouth agape, totally speechless and breathless in one instant.

I knew something was amiss if Brian couldn't look at me as he left. Not even an over-the-shoulder glance as he walked to his car.

Certainly, it's glaring... when he's feeding me lies in barely audible phrases like... _"Fine. I'm fine, Michael. I'm a bit tired."_... and touching my face with the electric caress of his hand.

And, still... no one saw... anything. Our relationship and closeness remaining a confusing mystery, even to me.

~*~

I touch my mouth, as if to gain some sensation left over on my flesh. I heave a huge sigh, closing my eyes and swallowing any amount of courage I had. My heart quickens and adds to the aches in my stomach.

Ben flips over, waking sooner than I'd have liked. He's always awake and not-so alert to my penchant for insomnia. "Babe..." His voice hushed and deep in the dark intimacy of the bed. "... you sleep at all?" He stretches and rolls on his left side, curling a muscled bicep under his pillow, resting his head down.

"No."

Why should I lie about the obvious?

"What's wrong? Dinner not agreeing with you?" Ben reaches a hand over, the palm cupping my belly, above the thin sheet. His fingers take separate measures to kneed my flesh under the cotton t-shirt. They barely skim the elastic waist of my sweatpants.

I can't lift my lids. I'm pretending the hand is Brian's, because I've had the digestion of a gnat since I was a child. Brian always had the perfect remedy for me, anticipating every move I'd make when I was ill. If food was going to bother me, it nearly killed me. Well, me and too much alcohol were a clear sign of my weak stomach. Brian would rub me to calm, soothing his strong hand and fingers over my abs, having asked me to take off my t-shirt. His soft, gentle palm on my hot, fevered skin. I never knew if he really cured me or if the "butterflies" in my stomach turned into an overload of hormones.

I finally open my eyes, knowing this was wrong to be thinking of Brian when Ben was sweetly adoring and affectionate to me. "I'm good. Just distracted." I try to turn my body in such a way to make it difficult for Ben to keep doing those tender ministrations.

"Oh?" Ben raises a curious blond eyebrow.

I catch the motion, lost again. Brian does that lone eyebrow lift better and my heart nearly crumbles.

If I told Ben anything of what I'm thinking, I'd keep him up needlessly. I don't want the eye rolling and deep sighs of annoyance, bemoaning another Kinney Tale of Woe.

Part of me wants to spill. Ben is my husband and we're in this marriage together. My pain is his... sort of.

But the one thing any man in my life hasn't owned... is Brian. He's mine and mine alone. Brian is and will always be my problem to solve. I can't trust anyone else.

Which gears up this other part of me. The one that wants to keep secrets and not share.

"It's nothing. Just me being... well, me..." I smirk and sniffle a laugh through my nostrils, closing my eyes again to feign sleep.

Ben couldn't help me properly, even if he wanted to. And, frankly, I probably wouldn't listen anyway.

How do I kill an issue that's clearly written on my face?

"Maybe THIS... will cheer you up..." Ben flips over, reaching for his satchel. He constantly brings this bag to bed in order to work on papers and assignments for his classes. He pulls out a nice folder, a picture of a very swanky holiday getaway on the cover and stretched over the back. "I called in a few favors..." He sits up in bed, back against the headboard. "... I managed to fix my schedule to match yours, when you'll be taking your vacation time." He turns on the bedside lamp as I raise myself up, as well.

Ben continues to converse, though I've drowned him out with the overwhelming shock I'm feeling infiltrate my weary body.

I reach for the folder. It's quite thick, some things inside are attempting to fall out. When I open the crease, I'm already aware of what this means. Ben's idea about taking time off for a belated honeymoon.

Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled. But what my husband didn't know was that I had already made some plans for the vacation time I was taking. He never asked and I never offered. I had figured he was busy and wouldn't want to do much of anything, with finals coming up and the spring semester ending. This folder was full of a lot of paper and brochures, what looked to be Ben having discussed our trip with some vacation planner. All without asking me.

Sure I was momentarily hurt, a bit miffed he hadn't taken the time to ask me before he went ahead and arranged something behind my back. Most of all, I was speechless. It takes a lot out of me to create "romance" here at home, with all of our distractions. To make sure Ben and I have schedules that don't clash.

Mainly I'm upset because I thought I had time. I always do. I think nothing will stand in my way if I find enough courage to confront someone. This "someone" being Brian. I should know better, luck never quite making it's way to my side for very long.

The next items Ben hands me are plane tickets, dated for two weeks from now. What can I say? It's a kind offer from my husband to bring us closer. Time alone together, to bond and make our relationship stronger. It would just be us, no one and nothing else. It's what we've dreamed of for so long.

Though we've been married far beyond what anyone thought possible, somehow it feels too soon. I feel we're not ready yet. Obviously, Ben feels differently. I wish we could have discussed this before. Well, too late now.

Is it terrible for me to wonder if these plane tickets are refundable?

All I can do is stare and read, perusing the beautiful photographs of some island bungalow. A healthy, spiritual retreat of some sort. There's lists upon lists of activities to do and of places to visit. Everything looks like something I'd be pleased to take, if only I'd been forewarned.

Also, if my fears with Brian hadn't cropped up out of the blue.

Suddenly a three week vacation/pseudo-honeymoon is seeming like forever. I'm trying to find the words to be grateful and thankful for the thoughtfulness, while refusing the offer.

Ben doesn't even remember the schedule I have worked with Melanie for seeing Jenny during the summer months. I know Ben didn't intentionally ignore the fact, he simply got caught up in the romance of being alone with me... his husband. I know how much he wants this time together and I do want to give him this moment. In fact, I'd pray for moments like that, if we could only have them here. Closer to home.

Being away three weeks means that the third week will be half of Jenny's pre-arranged visitation with me. I've told him time and time again that I won't compromise my role in Jenny's life for his role in mine, in our marriage. Jenny only has me as often as Melanie can make a trip back down to Pittsburgh or I can drive up to Toronto. Ben has me... forever. There had to be some give and take. A little bit of sacrifice to make everyone happy. Why did I always feel like it was ME doing all the sacrificing?

Ben tells me constantly that Jenny is young enough that being absent won't matter too much, but I tend to silently disagree. I've been in her life as much as I can and am able to do since she was born. I'm not about to slip away quietly to allow Melanie the slightest edge over my significance in our daughter's life and future. Jenny will always know she can count on me to keep my promises. I've already made her a few for when she's here for the first part of the summer. Even if it costs me my marriage or causes a mini-rift between Ben and I, my fatherly duties are important to me.

Not to mention I love my daughter to pieces. Like I love that certain "someone" in my life that shall remain anonymous. No one will force me to make decisions I don't feel good about. Especially when I'm not consulted, an odd way of backing me into a corner or when I feel like I'll be made to suffer a multitude of guilt if I don't choose correctly.

I honestly don't know what to say, but I have to say something. Ben looks a little unsettled, like he thinks he may have messed up. "This... is really wonderful, Ben. I don't know what to say."

Thank God there's some truth in that, huh?

~*~  
 **Next Day** :

  
I can tell he's unhappy with me. I've made a choice and it's one he knew I'd make. It's becoming harder for him to see his role in my world. Or should I say... importance in my life... lessen, as the years go by.

Would he be shocked to learn it really hasn't? That if circumstances were different, I'd be much braver than I'm not being right this second. I'm not saying specifically what I'd be doing, but it wouldn't be sitting on the opposite side of this table, in this gi-normous booth, privately drooling over how hot my best friend looks at seven-thirty in the morning.

I woke up to find three text messages on my phone. I read them from last to first. First Ted, next Emmet and then Brian. Ted wanted to know what Brian might have smoked or snorted the night before, Emmett wanted to know if "leather" was appropriate for breakfast and Brian's cryptic message finally caused me to comprehend the reason the first two were in an uproar. I was beyond confused at this point, but slightly excited.

Not stellar or captivating news. Brian's usual broken sentences, curt and short, that always go straight to the point. No mumbo-jumbo filler and no cute texting shorthand.

There was a change of plans, if we were interested. No breakfast at the Liberty Diner. We were going high-class. By "we" I mean... Ted, Em, Brian and I. Brian did suggest to stretching the invite to Ben, but I knew he was simply being kind , this once.

I knew Ben would only try to finagle a way out, so I never mentioned it to him. Plus, Ben was on a new workout regimen, taking him into the gym at some ungodly hour at the butt crack of dawn.

This minute, it's simply me and Brian. Ted and Emmett left to begin their day. I have this sinking sensation Brian wants to talk to me or with me. I'm pretty certain it's been the plan all along. To get me alone and in a comfortable environment, away from outside influences.

Brian has one arm up along the headrest of the booth, his body is turned to the side. One leg is probably resting on the bench seat. I'm on the other side of this semi-circled bench. I've eaten everything off my plate, more as an obligation than hunger. I can't figure it out, but there's something really soothing about this restaurant.

The food surpassed the Diner's quota. The wait staff and secondary employees have all been beyond kind and militant about service. There's this quaint silence I love, like the hum of a washer-n-dryer on a Sunday afternoon. I'm shocked I can feel such contentedness within the confines of something as upscale as this place. Even the clientèle is different. Hard to tell from gays or straights. I'm stunned Brian would actually bring all of us here, his pride being so strong in his sexuality. I'm sure this is where he's brought a million clients and he's found his own comfort zone here.

The best feature, and blessing, of all is... no Ma. This is more than likely one huge reason why Brian likes and has chosen this restaurant.

Brian keeps gazing out the window and I'm quickly getting a complex. Am I not good company on our own? There's words trapped inside my throat I need to say, but they can't come out. At least not now with my honeymoon plans in the near future. I thought I had enough time to spend with Brian this summer. Now... everything is off course. I don't like that sensation.

"I'm sorry." My words are soft-spoken and almost muttered under my breath. After all these years Brian's perfected this bat-like hearing. It's the only thing I can admit to feeling, because I AM... so very, very sorry. Brian doesn't, nor would he ever understand why I was. I can no longer involve myself in Brian's life like I wanted so it looks effortless. I don't want to rush things and fuck up, destroying what we've managed to put back together.

"What for?" He takes a slow sip of his lemon water, then turns away again. He uses his thumb nail to scratch at his chin, running slightly up his jawline.

I'm reminded of his words last night, about being tired. Even exhaustion looks sexy on Brian Kinney. His hair is ruffled, long wisps of brown hair cradling the sides of his neck. I can tell he either didn't bother to shave or he's going for the "unkempt" look again. Brian can make any fashion statement seem as if it's come back into style.

I know each of his features enough to believe there's a hint of shadow under his eyes. But he's been smiling and winking around everyone to cover any ounce of displeasure or depression. I know it's not from long nights of gorging on sex, drugs and alcohol. No... this... this is true exhaustion.

I shrug my left shoulder, playing with the cloth napkin over my lap. "I dunno. You look like you need someone to shoulder your burdens."

Christ! Too late. I've vocalized one of my secret fears. I suddenly blink, small smirk on my lips as I stare down at my plate. I throw my cloth napkin over the empty ceramic, then cross one arm over my stomach. I grab onto my elbow with my free hand. I need to explain myself and fast.

I see that my words have caused Brian to go still. He's in profile, gazing out the glass as rising sunlight spreads across his hair and eyes perfectly. It looks staged or formulated, but I've had moments like this before. He's almost glowing, ethereal. I always think I've seen the last image of Brian that will take my breath away, then... like now... a new one trumps the previous.

Age fits well on him, a maturity he's never wanted with a splash of pure dignity. He'd claimed this isn't so, but I think the older he gets the more beautiful he'll be. No matter what Brian attempts to do to stop the process.

"You've always been there for me." His voice sounds wistful, nostalgic. That's normally not a good sign with Brian.

Strange how our viewpoints differ but are similar in the way we feel about one another. "You for me." I can't help but smile wider. "Despite what others may think, this friendship has never been entirely one-sided, has it?" Lately, I've become a little too honest and testy about this subject. Maybe because I'm tired of everyone else telling me how bad Brian's been for me in my life. He's actually the one stable thing I can count on... even when I don't get along with him.

Brian shakes his head and murmurs his words. "My constant cheerleader."

"Sis-Boom-Ba-Brian!" I mimic a tiny cheer with my two index fingers.

Brian turns away from the window, adjusting his tie. He had taken off his suit jacket the minute he sat down. Elbows on the table top, he threads his fingers together. He rests his chin on the steepled structure, hazel gaze intense on me, across the table. "I guess this means I'll have to rearrange our plans for the start of the summer."

"OUR plans?!" This is the first I've heard of this. What is it with the men in my life? Is no one aware I have brains to go with this beauty?

"I mean... I wasn't about to exclude your sweet, dainty and docile wife, but..." Brian tries to explain himself, this need to exclude Ben in "our" plans.

I snicker, only because Brian used to call ME the "wife" and Ben is anything but dainty or docile. "But... what?"

"I suppose it'll be okay if he has you exclusively for three weeks, if I'm allowed to have you the rest of the summer." He looks serious, no smirk or smile. A blank face with eyes intent on being genuine.

Holy Crap!!

"What? Are you finally ready to adopt me?"

I have to poke fun or I'll cry. And I don't feel like sobbing in front of these people yet. Or let Brian know I'm weak to his words, every single one that pertains to me. He's talking as if I don't have a marriage or as if Ben and I live on some other planet. That it's okay to still flirt with me.

I don't know why, but I don't feel like steering him wrong. I want to play with him.

"Cute... and funny." Brian winks and I'm already sure my face is flushed. "No wonder I like you so much... and want you around..." He pauses in an odd place. He's caught in a moment or transfixed by my good looks. He sticks a finger under his collar and drew it around the circumference, as if his shirt was choking him. He takes a sip of water, more like a gulp. I knew there was possibly more he wanted to say, but... like the other night... he's getting emotional.

I sit forward, arms on the table. Miss Manners be damned, no one is watching me or Brian. "I want you around, too. Always." I don't know how often I can stress this and make Brian aware I mean it. I don't have the luxury of using sex to convey my feelings. I'm a show-er not a do-er. I actually feel like touching him, but I don't know if I'm allowed.

Brian is slightly taken aback, enough to sit against the back rest of the booth, arms splayed on the table to take a deep breath. He opens his mouth as if to speak, but he's unable to tap into one of his usual witty retorts.

I'm fine with that, you know. This person is more the "real" Brian Kinney then the other guy I've been dealing with most of my life. He's always been able to speak louder than words.

"If this is any consolation... Ben planned all this without my consent. I'm not even sure I want to go. Especially now..." I roll my hand to show that there's things that are rising more and more that will prevent me from going. I can hope.

"Why not?" Brian swallows, his brow furrows in perplexity. He knows how much I love and adore Ben, how long I've waited for some time alone with my husband.

"A couple of reasons..." I can't be too honest early on, I need this minute to breathe calmly. Let Brian know how much I was willing to drop everything to stay home. "... one being... the renovations for Red Cape I've been dreaming of. I have the time to dedicate to construction. I, also, have discovered a reasonably priced contractor who liked my ideas and can work within my budget." I held up two fingers in a "peace sign" formation. "... second is..."

"... Jenny..."

Okay... I'm floored. Why is it that Brian can never forget my daughter and my own husband doesn't even have a clue?

"Yeah..." One side of my mouth quirks up. How did I know Brian would know? And why is it making me feel so ecstatic inside, like butterflies in my tummy? "... I'm surprised you remembered." Maybe the feeling I get is because when Brian says my daughter's name it's like he's caressing my face or softly kissing my cheek. There's an unspeakable adoration he has for Jenny that I never knew possible. I think I might have something to do with that emotion.

Brian sits forward, twining his arms on the table top. His forearms have bunched, biceps bulging under the soft silk blend shirt. He tugs gently on the knot of his tie, loosening the fabric. "Half my plans are with Gus... the rest with Gus and Jenny." He takes out one hand and rests his chin on the palm to cup his cheek. "... I thought you might like to tag along with us." He's joking, teasing me to blush. He knows I'd kill to spend time with Gus and him, with Jenny. As if we all were a real family.

We did that one time, up in Toronto. We surprised the kids with a visit from both their fathers at the same time. We made some off hand comment that we should do this again, but never thought it would actually be possible. Then it happened a second time back home in Pittsburgh, bumping into one another during our visitations.

I can't put into exact words what I feel when all four of us are together, but I have this idea it's a certain kind of heaven. I wouldn't mind repeating it more often.

I raise my eyebrows and sigh heavily. "Ben doesn't even know we'll be cutting into my time with Jenny."

That's it. I don't have to say more to Brian. His easy smile disappears and he begins to nod his head in understanding. But then he shrugs, tilting his head to the side. "I'm sure it wasn't intentional. I do understand why he'd forget." He makes sure his eyes are meeting mine across the table. "I'd probably do the same."

"What does that mean?" I'm almost glad the sun is rising on Brian's side of the room, because I must look redder than a street fire hydrant.

"He's used to not having her around. It comes natural to plan just for the two of you. Plus... it's... you." Brian gestures to me as if I had something sinister to do with making Ben seem absentminded.

"What did I do?"

"Not you YOU, but the concept of "you". Of being able to whisk you away. Alone. With no distractions. I know just how he feels." The look on Brian's face kills me and makes me warm all over.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were jealous." I only meant the words as a tease, but Brian's face is serious again.

"Maybe I am... and willing to admit it, for once." One lone eyebrow quirks up in playfulness. He does it to show me he could be kidding or... not. These days I'm leaning more toward the "not".

Again, I'm stumped. Not knowing what to say next. "Brian..."

"You never said..." Brian sits back, his arm going back up on the upper portion of the booth. "... do you like this place?" He's never been deft at casually changing the subject. Often I let them drop, but this time I am quite curious.

"Uh... what made you think I didn't?" I chuckle, because I normally spaz out in these kind of places. I'm self-aware of who I'm not against those I see before me. I contrast and compare and find myself coming up short. I haven't cared one bit about who is or isn't around me, except Brian.

Brian shook his head, soft smile on his lips. He licks the top one, blinking slowly to cast his eyes to the left then back to my face. "No reason." He plays with his tie, then crosses his ankle over his knee, hand clamped on the ankle. "I figured with all the tree bark, twigs and barley at home, the fat and grease at the Diner... every once and awhile, you deserve to be treated to a nice, fulfilling expensive meal."

I have to laugh, only because it really doesn't take a special occasion for Brian to treat those he cares about to something nice and thoughtful. I've often had this fantasy that even though Brian tends to dumb me down and make me feel inferior to his gorgeous looks and body... he does like to show me off. It's a cheap thrill I sustain in my head that makes my heart flutter like it's doing right now. I can't remember the last time Ben took me to a restaurant like this without complaining about one thing or another. "I'm more of a Denny's or an IHOP kind of guy, but it's great that you can think so highly of me that I need to be treated so well. I like "swank", but not too often. Don't want my head to get swelled."

"God Forbid." Brian rolls his eyes and snickers. He looks at me under his lashes. "You still aren't the least bit curious?"

"About?" I really could care less, but now that HE is curious to why I'm not curious... yeah, I'm curious.

"Why I brought you here?"

I blink rapidly. Was I alone at the table earlier? "Uh... Ted and Em showed up, as well."

"They don't count. All part of my cover-up. I knew I had to invite them or they'd be catty and jealous if word got out I only brought you." Brian threw the comment out with the flip of his hand, while taking a drink of his water. He taps the lemon wedge into the liquid, submerging it with his knife. The clinking noise fills the silence between us.

"Liar." I burst out when he stops making all that racket.

"Okay... well, then... I'm trying to make up for all the times I've..." Even before he opened his mouth, Brian's heart wasn't in the storytelling. He looks over at me, smirking widely. "... still not working for you?"

I shake my head, biting my bottom lip. "Your mouth keeps moving..." I show the general area of my own lips, then move to one of my ears. "... but all I hear is..." I open my hand, like a shadow puppet and use my fingers to "speak". "... BLAH... BLAH... BLAH-BLAH... BLAH..."

"If I told you the truth... you wouldn't believe me." Brian plays with his leftover, unused utensils. Strange that I realize now that he never over turned his coffee mug to have a cup or twelve. Usually he's wired on java by now. He certainly looks like he could use some, like he's running on empty.

"Why not?" Now I'm simply curious. Brian is just... well, he doesn't second guess himself. Ever. He is always the one person who says what we all dream of saying the minute we leave the room.

" 'Cause... I'm a little confused myself."

"Confused about what exactly?"

"The way I feel."

Okay... stop...

Now I'm not even sure if I'm awake or dreaming. Brian's feelings? Being talked all out in the open like this? And people are seated around us and can see his lips and hear his voice? I thought I was unable to speak before, this takes the cake.

I'm not sure what he's getting at. If it's feelings from the past coming forward or recent issues that pulled him out of a funk. I really am not sure who Brian Kinney wants to be, but I do realize he can't let go of me. And it looks as if he wants my help. I'm beyond honored, I'm overflowing with some kind of foreign feeling I haven't felt in a long time. I can't identify it right now, but I don't want it to end. My mind is rambling to figure things out before Brian says his next words. I always feel the need to be one step ahead of him at all times.

Why else would he bring me here? And want to speak to me alone?

I pull myself over, sliding closer to Brian. He's not moving or looking up at me. My back faces the window, I can feel the sunlight on my neck. He kept one hand gripped on the table ledge and I reach out to place my hand over his. People would be shocked to know how warm Brian Kinney feels.

My finger pads fit in the center of the ridges of his knuckles. I rub the bare skin tenderly. "What's going on with you? I could feel there was something wrong last night. I'm sorry I let you go after we..."

Brian interrupts me, quite slyly. "I didn't want to be there anymore."

"I could have left with you, talked at your loft." My hand is now curled over top of his, my fingers touching the curve of his wrist.

Brian is too quick. He flips his hand over and grips mine tight, thumb and pinky clenched around the bone structure. "What you did was enough. I knew what you wanted. I couldn't do that for you. Not last night."

"It was a kiss, Brian..." I don't know why I'm making it seem like something small, when it was kind of huge. Ben would have been jealous had he witnessed it. My voice became whisper soft.

"I couldn't do that to you. You have a husband and a life separate from me. You don't need my baggage."

"Fine, but... what about now? I can't just ignore you, when you say something like that."

"I'm really fine, Michael." Brian gave a wane smile, unable to contain it's length. "I'm a bit puzzled... but I'm intrigued."

"Is it a man?" I went back to rubbing his skin and it causes him to shut his eyes. I hear the heavy sigh. He knows I won't stop pestering. I get that from Ma.

Brian turns, slightly, toward me, but looking as if he's still at the table. Our hands are now on the bench seat, bond unbroken. His thumb rubs the vein at the underside of my wrist. "Uhm... not quite."

Now that kind of statement makes me more curious. "Older? Younger?" There's only half of a smile on my lips. I'm not certain I'm ready to hear this... whatever THIS news is.

Because I'm with Ben and I know our marriage is solid, I feel a safety net in these types of conversations with Brian. I am really okay with him seeing someone new, to fill the void left by Justin. I'm even okay with this new guy if he does change Brian and they become boyfriends. I'm certain no one will be able to convince him to try marriage so... at least I don't have to worry there. The only thing that scares me is the breaking of Brian's heart.

"Older." Brian speaks with such conviction, as if he's replayed this discussion in his head often. He's not offering any information. I find I'll have to slowly leak this out of him, like molasses from a jar.

"Have you known him long?" I think I know everyone who knows Brian. Anyone before the age of 14 and anyone he met while away in college...? Yeah, THOSE people worry me.

Brian lets out a soft smile, blowing a laugh through his nostrils. "Practically all my life."

I fidget and wonder who this man could be. I'm often aware that there were even secrets kept when we were younger. But if he told me about the gym teacher he lost his virginity with, why would he try to hide anything else from me? "Is it serious?"

By this time, Brian's hyper-aware of me. I figure it's the tone of my voice or the way I keep touching or not touching him. How tight my hand is, if I go limp or try to pull away. I'm not sure if he can bear losing me, I'm not even sure I want to let him suffer like that again. If he felt the same emotions I did, while apart.

.... No, I would never wish it on my worst enemy. Why would I wish it on my best friend?

"Is what serious?" Brian gazes at me under his lashes, taking a risky sip of water. Only because he uses the motion as an excuse to avoid answering me, keeping the subject a mystery. His eyes quickly flash back to mine, alert to my every move and gesture.

"The 'relationship'." I'm thinking Brian's taunting me into some game. A play on words, of sorts.

"There was potential." Brian sucks in a short breathe through clenched teeth, as if he suffered greatly... heart broken and tattered. "... he would've been special to me. Like family."

I bite my bottom lip to keep from cracking up in laughter in case there's some truth to this. "He sounds... uhm, interesting..." I raise one eyebrow and roll my eyes.

"Michael..." Brian pulls my arm closer to his thigh, our bond almost brushing his trouser leg.

"I'm happy for you." I spit out the comment on a slight dare, showing what a "good sport" I can be. Hell, I made it through Justin Taylor relatively unscathed. This new guy should be a piece of cake.

"Don't." Brian grows frustrated. His grip on my hand tighter.

"What?"

"Be that way."

"What way?"

"The way you've always been with me." Brian opens his mouth to say something more, but shuts it. The index finger of his free hand lifts up in a declaration. "You know absolutely... nothing..."

I know he's not truly angry or he would have easily dropped my hand, scooted away down the booth. He actually seems content right where he is, holding my hand, hidden under the table cloth.

"I know no-thing, because you won't tell me any-thing." I like making my points strong by stressing my words. Brian knows exactly what he's doing, but the guilt is too obvious on his face. He wants to say more, but he's conflicted. By what... I'm not sure.

"I want to, Michael..." Brian drags our hands into his lap, my hand now on the flat of his thigh. His other hand comes over to under-cup mine. "I really do. But... I'm not clear on why he's back in my life."

Intriguing choice of wording. "Back in my life"?? I'm not really okay with those words. "You knew him... this man... from before?"

"Michael..." Brian sits up straighter, his back higher on the bench cushion behind him.

"What?"

I thought I had him. I thought he was going to confess something, just a little bit of information.

"Let it be. Quit being nosy." Brian reaches out to run the back of his knuckles down my face, catching under my jaw and flicking my chin upward. "You'll work yourself into an ulcer." He's alternating hands to hold mine and I'm silently allowing him possession of my left hand... forever, it seems.

"Fine. I'll drop it. This time." I stress that, succinctly. "If it happens again... give me fair warning before you request my 'Best Man' services."

Brian snickers, nodding his head in agreement. He drops the subject of this possible new man in his life. "I wish I could tell you, Michael." He momentarily rests my palm to sculpt the upper curve of his mid-thigh, like he wants the hand there permanently. "You're an important part of my life."

I'm afraid to move it, to draw away or to move closer to his... inner thigh or groin. I want to, but... there's more significant business to attend to.

"As you are in mine." I immediately respond with an echo to his words, but I'm disturbed by this feeling washing through me. I've felt it before, but I've been able to contain the rush. I dip my head low, swallowing down some courage.

"What?"

I hear Brian's voice deep, resonating off to my left. I lift my head swiftly. "Huh?"

Brian tilts his head to catch my eyes at an angle. "All of a sudden... you can't look me in the face anymore." He's not asking me, he's telling me exactly what he saw. I know, because it's exactly what I did.

I can't look at him, because if I do... Ben and my life, my marriage and my home... all of it will disappear and I'll attempt something no one has ever expected me to attempt before. I'm even shocked myself. "Sorry..." I give a small grin, lifting one side of my mouth. I brush my index and middle finger over my brow, feeling some moisture. Was I sweating too much? "Headache." I lie.

I lie because the pain showing through my eyes is similar to how I get with a real headache, but now it's simply coming from my heart, pounding through my blood up to my head.

Brian purses his lips, raising his left arm to wave the waiter back to their table. "Why didn't you say something earlier?"

"Brian... no, really... don't go through the trouble." I try to see if I can catch the waiter's eye and send him away. I don't need the extra attention. I simply need a "Rewind" button on my life. "I needed some food on my stomach. I'll take something when I get to the store."

"Nonsense..." Brian slides over to pull me under the comfort of his right arm as the bunching muscles settled around the back of my head. They're a softer cushion than the leather bench seats. "... we'll get you that aspirin right now."

The waiter approaches, bending low at the waist, hands crossed at his back. "Yes, Mr. Kinney." He's actually giving off some kindness, with a genuine smile. It doesn't even appear faked or put-on because of Brian's stature or success.

"Can you have Gretchen pull two Tylenol out of the medicine cabinet, with a warm can of Mountain Dew?" Brian uses his free hand to move some of our dishes out of the way, but holds back the full water glasses and extra cloth napkins.

"Sure thing." The waiter rubs his palms together, already piling plates on top of each other, setting silverware in some empty glasses. He waves over a busboy with an empty gray plastic bin to help him clear off the table top. "Anything else?"

"A bowl... and... uh, find me a washcloth. A clean washcloth." Brian stresses the "clean" adjective.

Alright... I'm a little stunned. I readjust my head to glance over at Brian. "Is there something you forgot to mention to me?" I waited until we were alone again before I start my inquisition.

"No." Brian furrows his brow, scraping off a few toast crumbs onto the floor. "Why?"

"You spoke to that waiter like you knew him... like he knew you, not just OF you."

"Oh... yeah... that..." Brian's not even bothering to look in my direction. He's found an interesting stain on the table cloth and using droplets of water off one of his fingers to blot it out. He shrugs one shoulder, the one under my head, and finds a moment to catch my eye. "I might be looking to buying this place." He draws a hand in the air, encompassing the entire restaurant.

I use his thigh to push up, sitting forward. My grip has clenched hard on his leg. I mean business this time. "Wha-? Why?" I'm flabbergasted and dumbfounded. Brian's advertising business hasn't slumped since the first few months of opening his doors to clients. Why would he...? "Is Kinnetik okay?"

Brian drags down the cloth napkin, playing with the sewn hem between his fingers. "It's fine. Great, even." He blows this news off as if it's not really, really pertinent. "I'm a little bored, as usual." Like he sucks in businesses every day of the week, like Godzilla trashed Tokyo in every film.

"Do you know the owner?"

"No."

"The manager?"

"No." Brian shakes his head, realizing where I'm going with the 20 questions.

"You didn't...?"

"Fuck him?" Brian raises one eyebrow, with a tiny smirk. "Well... I could have fucked anyone here, for that matter. Half the staff is male." He uttered that last portion as he drank another gulp of water.

My hand on his thigh moves up to grip the mid-section of his tie, tugging gently. "... liar..." I can't help but smirk, as well.

Brian actually giggles or his chuckles are stilted as he tries to breathe. I'm not choking him, just pulling a little on the silk fabric. His hand comes up to latch onto mine. Our hands lay on his upper chest. "I had a dream..."

Now I'm giggling. "Spouting Dr. King's words won't make a difference." I look at him intently. "What...?" I shake my head in confusion. "... what's going on with you?"

"No... I'm serious, Michael. I HAD a dream." Brian nods his head to make his point. "... the portion of night that happens between sleeping and waking, with our eyes closed."

I shove at his chest, pulling my hand away. I bunch it into a fist and use the knuckles to lean on. I'm still close to his right thigh, now outside the shape. I can still feel how warm he is. "I know what dreams are, Brian. No need to elaborate the definition."

"Good." He nods his head once, chin plastered to his chest. "Have you ever...?" He lifts his chin, his eyes squint over at me. "... do you have any..." He tries to find the words to speak clearly. "...understanding of what they could mean? In reality?"

This... is obviously the "serious" part he was going on about. Brian's pretty creative and imaginative, I would assume his dreams can get awesomely vivid. What's unsettling is that he's having dreams that disturb him in the times he's awake. That's not like him. He hates being out of control of his life. "Like... having some significance in real life?" I had to know if he meant some kind of other worldly power, like ESP. There's no telling what anything could mean for Brian Kinney. "Moments repeating... that you've dreamed of previously?"

"Ehhhh... yes, but not quite."

"So... someone TOLD you, in your dream, to buy this restaurant?"

"Sort of."

"By whom?"

Brian wrinkles his brow in thought, laughing harshly. "Why does that matter?"

I shrug, looking across the table toward the other diners and the walls, the employees and the basic ambiance of this place. "I dunno." I turn back to look over at Brian, noticing how close our heads are. "Depends on who told you."

"And that really makes a huge difference?"

"Brian..." I put a hand to my forehead, forgetting I fibbed on my head aching. I'm reacting to his double talk. The moments he answers by asking another question instead of telling me the truth.

Brian grabs my wrist, sliding under to clench around my thumb. We're caught in this weird hand-holding shake. "Okay... sorry..."

I hate when he feels he has to apologize for me nagging him. I know I'm a pain sometimes. I know how private Brian likes to be, but I feel he's got nobody else to turn to but me. And I don't want to miss one second more of being there for him. "Don't be sorry." I raise our hands to use the back of mine to knock a mock punch to his jaw and chin. "Swallow some fuckin' pride and just tell me who told..."

"... Vic..."

I wasn't prepared to hear that name. Especially after all this time having passed since his death. More than anything that Brian uttered the name. I wasn't in the group of people last night who began talking about Vic, but I heard it float over to me from across the room. That's when Brian high-tailed and left the dinner party.

I'm not saying I don't dream about my uncle, too, but he never comes to me with sage business advice. It's always backwards Yoda-speak... and he certainly has never specifically recommended I buy a five-star, uppity-muckity restaurant.

There's more to this... "Dream Vic" that Brian's not telling me and if I play all my cards right, I think I could get him to spill. I need all the luck and courage I can muster...

 **~*~TBC...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Michael's POV** : (con't)

  
"Brian... I..." I want to explain something, don't know what, but I feel compelled. He's about to reveal a personal dilemma to me and I want him to feel safer than we are right now. I want to be alone with him, more alone than this booth. Even as close as we're sitting, hands wrapped together and our bodies sliding closer still.

"Look... never mind. I know it sounds absurd..." He brings up his free hand to pinch the skin between his eyebrows and wipe downward. "... but it's true."

"... Vic's dead..." I mean to say more, but Brian wouldn't let me. He already feels like more of a joke than usual.

"Yeah? So? He can still be in our dreams." Brian uses a weird tone to his voice, a tone I would normally use.

"But... he's talking to you... giving you great business advice. Does it happen often?" I'm sure it doesn't, but I have to ask. Sounds peculiar and downright goofy.

"No. Not exactly." Brian reluctantly lets go of my hand and leans forward, blocking my view of the room. His left arm comes up to bend at the elbow. He rests his cheek on his hand, his right arm is on the table surface, fingers drawing circles on the table cloth. He's like a little kid, who's hesitant to tattle.

What exactly is Vic doing to Brian?

I slide over, the front of my body meshing with the side of Brian's shape. There's a small enough section of shoulder for me to place my chin on. "Is this why you're so tired?"

Brian crosses his arms, fingers locking on his collar bone. I feel him lean to brush his temple and a bit of his hair on my forehead. "No."

"There's another reason?"

"Yes." Brian buries his face in his arms, releasing a long breath. He's been wanting to talk about this very thing for so long. I could kick myself for neglecting him.

I lift my head up, using my palm to caress and massage over the expanse of his back. I notice how receptive he is to my touch and I'm wondering how long it's been since he's been with anyone, let alone me. Especially just for something simple and comforting like this... how we are together. Brian never used to like to be touched this easily, I had to talk him down from flinching away when our friendship was first beginning. Now... well, now he craves this... what I seem to be able to give him. What most people have naturally in their lives.

"Does it still involve Vic?"

"Yeah..." Brian flips his head over, his left cheek resting on his crossed forearms.

My hand travels up his back, over his shirt collar and filters through his disheveled hair. I twist the dark locks around and between my fingers. Brian closes his eyes in pure contentedness. If I put my ear to his chest, I could almost bet he purrs. "Brian... what's going on?"

"I don't know... but I wish he'd stop."

I stop, actually. I pause in my movements and I bring my hand up to brush back his bangs, curl a few waves behind his ear. I'm close enough to his ear canal, speaking softly, a mere whisper. "Wait... you don't mean...? Do you...?" I'm somewhat assured I'm right on this thought. Only because... Brian wouldn't be this freaked out by a dream. "... do you see him anywhere else?" I look up, as if to scope out the restaurant, in case that's what made Brian become so quiet and controlled.

Brian blinks for a bit, then squints his eyes. "What are you askin' me?"

"Outside of your dreams... is he...?" How do I ask this without sounding weird?

Brian slowly slinks upward, lifting his head, but keeping his arms crossed. "I wouldn't say he's 'haunting' me, but he's doing a great job of showing up wherever I am or when I least expect him."

"Well, of course, expecting him anywhere is foolish. He IS dead, you know?" Brian groans out a chuckle, not sure he likes my tease very much. I return to rubbing his back. "For how long, Brian?"

" 'bout a month." He picks up his water glass and tinkers with it, tilting liquid from side to side. "First, it was the dreams... now it's like he's... everywhere..." He gestures "everywhere" as if it overtook his entire body and aura.

"Does he do or say much?"

"Very little, if anything."

"He looks alright? Nothing spooky or scary?"

"He looks great. How he always did." Brian became trapped in one single vision, a smile broadening over his lips. "He smiles at me a lot, like he knows something I don't."

I'm curious about the twinkle to Brian's eyes and the smile. It sounded like Vic looked terribly heavenly. "And the biggest thing he revealed to you was to buy this place?"

"Yes... well, no... he didn't tell me anything. Just... I found it written down on some paper, on the table. He didn't tell me WHAT to do with this place, but... it needs better advertising. I showed up, during lunch one day... and heard the sob story all in one shot. The owner is on his last legs to try and pump up some business."

I have no idea what Brian's talking about, because what I am witnessing is downright exceptional. I'm impressed by those I DO see seated here. There's a lot of people eating and enjoying laughter and good company. I saw nothing wrong.

Brian notices my curiosity. "It was worse a few weeks ago. I suggested, for awhile, they should open for breakfast and lunch, maybe a late afternoon dinner crowd. But close when other restaurants are just about to open."

"Be original. Pave your own path. Unique." It's a lesson Brian's attempted to drill into me time and time again. It's why I have such confidence in my ventures with Red Cape.

"Yes. Exactly."

"And it's worked?"

"Yeah. Different types of customers. Ones he never expected. He found out the breakfast crowds are just as good at tipping than late night dinner ones."

"And you took this to mean Vic wanted you to buy this restaurant?"

"No." Brian smirks and almost blushes. "The owner made me an offer I couldn't refuse."

"Oh, he did, did he?"

"Hey... it's all legit."

"I would hope so. You've never failed at anything you've accomplished in your life. Let's not spoil the good flow so soon." I can tell Brian has more to say. "What?"

"Vic... he, uh... wouldn't stop at just the restaurant."

"He..." I'm anticipating something about me. That Vic may have left Brian some message. I'm even willing to carry one to Ma, as long as I know... gosh, sounds loony, but as long as I know Vic still thinks about me as often I do him. "... there were other things he wanted done?"

Brian shrugs, then slowly sits back against the leather booth. He doesn't want to loose my hand, but he also doesn't want to hurt me. I draw my hand back to my side. "Michael, now's not really the time..." He seems a little unsure of speaking here, out in the open.

"When, Brian? When will it finally be the right time?" Sheesh... I could use that phrase all throughout our life together.

"I'm... well, I'm under the impression he's trying to check up on a few people."

"Like Ma?" I nod my head, knowing how much THAT debacle was evident. Christmas in July... what a tragic horror THAT idea was.

"And... you."

"Me?"

"You're his nephew. His only other family. Why is that so shocking?"

"Because... it doesn't make sense." I sit back in a huff, near to pouting.

"None of this makes much sense." Brian raises his hands in the air, in frustration. He brings them down to cross over his chest. "What do YOU mean?"

"Haunting you to ask about me... and Ma."

"He's not 'haunting" me. There's nothing ghost-like or ghoulish about him. He's all there, nothing fades in or out. He walks out of rooms. he can open doors and leave. Granted, he vanishes quickly if I blink or turn away to do something else, but he's really... there." Brian waved a hand in the air, between us. "Besides... why are you upset? You've never been as honest with him as you wanted to be. What could he tell me that you haven't already?"

I'm a bit shocked by those words, not expecting them and, frankly, finding them hypocritical. "Did he say some thing to you... about me?"

Brian's not looking at me, but down into his lap. "Let's not get into this right now." He's probably wondering where the waiter is, with all that stuff he wanted. He's worried about my headache getting worse.

"No, Brian." I reach out a hand to clamp down on one forearm. "You brought me here to talk, obviously. To fatten and butter me up to make all this go down a little easier." I shake him only a little, wanting him to see some common sense. "You've been wanting to tell me this for awhile." I don't even need to ask, it's written all over Brian's face and body mannerisms.

Brian shrugs his right shoulder. "So what if I have? Nothing will change."

"It's important to me."

"What is? My complete mental and emotional breakdown?" Brian shakes his head in disagreement. "And why, for fuck's sake? You've got a life away from me. A man who loves you..." Jesus that looked hard for him to admit. "... and is taking you on a belated honeymoon. Last thing you need is me..." He picks up my hand and brushes me off. "... hanging on."

"It's important to me, because you are." I'm slightly perturbed. Why did he bring me here if he wasn't going to follow through? Maybe I really threw him off course with my new honeymoon plans with Ben. "So... why even bother telling me?"

"Because..." Brian scratches the side of his face, brushing his fingers under his chin.

" 'Cause why?"

"Maybe... maybe, with this new development... I'm scared of losing you all over again."

I can't speak, for like a second. Only because I thought we were past that point of fear. Or at least I was. "That's ludicrous."

"Is it?" Brian looks over at me now, a little pissed. "Three weeks is a long time, Michael. You may never want to come back." He glances down. I can see the motion of his foot, his shoe is scuffing the floor. "I wouldn't blame you if you didn't."

The waiter sidles up to our table, spooking Brian into action. Everything is placed on the table. Brian hands me the pills and the warm, fizzy soda. He takes the bowl and dumps the two water glasses in, then submerges the washcloth. As he wrings out the soaked fabric, he rolls the material the long way.

"Sit forward." Brian commands as he places the wet cloth around my neck. He five-finger shoves me on the center of my chest. "... sit back..." The words are said much softer.

I'm surprised I'm allowing Brian to do this in public with me. I don't know how we've been appearing to this crowd of patrons. The customers at the diner were always all in our business. They'd heckle us from time to time. I can tell Brian can't look at me again, after what he stated so willingly, with some spice and fervor to his tone.

For the first time, I'm about to realize something pretty relevant. I wonder if it's been there all this time, without me truly paying attention. There's genuine feelings emanating from Brian. There's care, concern... a bit of wild-eyed wonderment. There's emotions on his face I once dreamed would be there for me and me alone.

I can't stop thinking about what Vic could have told Brian. Mostly the stuff about me, if that really happened. The BIG REVEAL of my true feelings. I mean, even if I didn't declare them to his face, Vic knew how I felt about Brian. The last thing I need is the ghost of my dead uncle using his matchmaking skills to make Brian fall in love with me. Or worse yet... realize he'd made a huge mistake twenty years ago.

I feel bad. All my reasons for staying are selfish. The minute I learn about Brian having visions of Vic, I get selfish again. All of a sudden, with a minute long connection to Brian's hazel gaze... everything comes together.

The real reason for Brian's tiredness hits me. It's never been easy for him to admit when he's weak or vulnerable. When something has gotten the better of him. He can't figure this out on his own and he doesn't know how to ask me for help. That saddens me even more. We've lost something special, the more we stand apart. I don't know what will happen if we let even a few days pass by us... without some kind of connection or bond between us.

I'm afraid to find out. I have to talk to Ben about this trip. I'm not so sure we can leave on time or if we will be able to stay for three weeks. I have to give up some piece or part somewhere, because I'm not short-handing Brian. No matter how much Ben complains.

Twenty minutes ago, I killed Brian's momentum by giving him this freaky two weeks notice, before I'm out of his life, for almost one month.

"Brian..."

"Don't say it."

"Say what?"

"You'll go away with your husband. End of story. You know where you belong."

"I belong where I'm needed most." At least I can be frustratingly honest. "I can postpone... or come back early. Either way, I'm not leaving you alone."

Brian under-cups my chin, raising my head for us to look directly at one another. "Can't change the airline tickets. Go..." He let his fingertips slide down my throat, over my Adam's apple. "... and if I see you back home... even one hour earlier than arrival time, after the three weeks are up... you better be back for your daughter."

I turn my head away in mild disgust. I don't like it when he blatantly sacrifices himself like that, makes me feel more guilt. "Brian..."

The back of his hand scrapes over my forehead and along my temple, getting lost in my hair. "How's the headache, champ?"

"Almost gone. You're a miracle worker." I like making him feel special, often superior. A better human than he thinks he actually is. It's kind of cool to make a man like Brian act shy, possibly see him blush.

"... liar..." Brian wraps his right arm about my head and pulls me close to his side. I find a perfect niche under his arm, close to his shoulder.

"I'm gonna miss you." I press my left cheek into his shirt. He always smells fantastic, the pricey musk mixed with the freshly-scented laundry detergent. It reminds me of high school, when Brian would spend some nights at my house, living in my bedroom and sleeping in my bed. I could often fall asleep, breathing him in. It's a comforting thought that sends me back in time. I can even grasp those same feelings I had for him, but with the mind and heart of an adult male.

I feel Brian turn his head, his jaw resting on top of my hair. He presses a kiss down, awkwardly, cuddling me near. "Yeah... right... all that sun and sex... probably beach and blue water... Cabana boys and Ben at your beck-n-call. You won't even remember my name..." He chokes himself into some feeling. A fear he's always had, I guess. He's got me so tight to his body he doesn't even care he's making his shirt wet with the soaked washcloth.

"Is there any way I can make this up to you?" I swing my right hand over, wrapping my arm about his torso. I tease, lift my head off it's perch and bat my eyelashes. I hear Brian snort out a chuckle, but he swivels his head in time to catch me looking up.

He grows calm and still, his grin disappears. Our eyes catch for only a second... and we nearly hold our breathes, unable to move.

I raise my head up, slightly. I'm facing the side and back of his neck. My temple just slides up his jaw, along his stubbled cheek. Brian tilts his head one more inch left... and our lips are barely skimming. He inhales, I exhale... and it's like last night all over again... with more tenderness and intensity...

Don't ask me when our mouths actually touched, lips meeting. We both went forward, almost squishing on purpose. It's years of pent-up emotions and feelings rolled into one kiss. It's the moments you get caught up in the minutes you realize your life can change the next second you move, so you savor and horde whatever you can to just make sure you're the YOU you've always maintained being. I can never identify myself, to anyone, without including Brian... and it continues to break my heart if I find myself further along the line of letting him go. I might lose myself in the process. My heart knows best, but my mind knows better.

I can't do this to either Ben or Brian. I don't even care about myself. I feel like I'm not giving them enough of myself to keep them satisfied. I'm happy with them, because they both are a part of my life, but I wonder these days... are they happy... with me?

At first, Brian isn't reacting or moving, then there's the softest sigh. His hand rushes to tangle at the back of my head... wet cloth gone, rolling down my back. He straightens, bumping our foreheads, breaking our contact and the side of his face brushes mine. His lids are closed... and it sounds like he's trying to breathe me in, savoring my essence.

I should be more cautious. Anyone could be here and see me, kissing Brian. Ben would know... and then my marriage might end.

But... honestly... this booth is a little more secluded and private than I realized. And it's as if the waiter's aware he doesn't need to tend to us at all times. I could probably sink under this table and give Brian a blow job and no one... well, let's not get ahead of ourselves...

My right hand is cupping the side of Brian's face, threading through his sideburns and hair. "What... what is this...? What are we doing...?"

Brian shakes his head. "I don't know. You tell me."

Right now, we're so close... we're breathing in each other's face... twisting and turning to find a perfect angle to kiss again. But we don't, we know this can't continue.

"You eat men like me for dinner. There's a different one in your bed every night. You've known me for twenty years. We're like family." I'm halfway to climbing into Brian's lap. His fingers in my hair feel... fantastic...

"You have a house... a husband... and marriage... you've even got two kids. I'm a mess even when I'm sober. The last thing you need is me..." Brian's not kissing me, his lips are skimming over the skin on my face. They whisper pass my nose and brow.

"What...?" I wanna hear him say it. Sat it out loud. My hand slides down to capture his tie again. My brow falls onto his cheek.

"... the last thing you need is a one night stand... with me..."

Was that it? Was that what I wanted him to say? Or did I want something a bit more... sadistic from him? A confession of unrequited love and sexual desire? Or is it enough he still feels that inexplicable draw toward me that can never be fulfilled? Is it enough for him to want me in his bed, the way he wants other men?

I perk my head up, eyes alight and catching Brian's deep, passionate ones. "Is that what this is?" I wasn't sure, but now I am. Brian actually might feel like taking this... whatever's between us to another level. And strangely enough... I'm almost close to agreeing with him.

All these motions have been done before, between us. Why do they feel so different now? Why do I feel like if I wasn't married and we didn't have jobs to tend to... we'd be hiding out somewhere, alone... sex an actual option?

"We need to leave soon. It's a weekday work week. Back to real life." Brian slides his cheek against mine, briefly tucking his face in my neck. I have no idea what he's doing, but he really should keep doing it.

At the same time, we both pull away, reluctantly.

Brian glances down at the table, I look out at the dining room again. I'm almost getting a weird sense of deja vu. I've been here before, but years ago. Not the kissing and cuddling with Brian, but the restaurant.

I turn to look over at Brian, wanting to ask him questions about this place, but I don't. He's grown white as a sheet, like he did the other night. He's scared, about what or who I'm not certain. Now that I know a specific to what's been bothering him, I'm willing to help him out. In the short time frame I have.

I just need to figure out a better plan that won't include whatever we did a few minutes ago. If that happens a second time, I'm not so sure I can stop myself.

I love Ben, I want my marriage to work. But as I gaze at Brian I'm overcome with the knowledge that it's very possible I could love him more than I ever thought before. If I was given a smidge of what I'd always wanted... well, let's just get this over with now... it wouldn't be a one night stand.

~*~  
 **A week later... late evening** :

  
I nearly hop down the staircase, two at a time. I throw my backpack at the bottom of the steps and tuck my cell phone into my back pocket.

I'm beyond ecstatic. I've been able to acquire some alone time with Brian. It's been almost a week since we were together, by ourselves, and I can't help the excitement running through me. I hum some tune under my breath and actually swing off the railing post from the last step.

The front door slams shut as Ben walks through, laden with take-out, his satchel and his workout duffel.

"You're home?!" I didn't mean to sound shocked and stunned. Like I got caught with my hand in the cookie jar. I wasn't expecting him back for another few hours.

Ben grins broadly. "I hope that smile is for me."

"Sure... it is..." I lie. It isn't. Brian granted me access into His Lair and I'm feeling like I've been invited to dinner with The King. "I, uh... thought you'd be gone most of the night." I stand motionless, tucking my hands in my front pockets.

Ben sets his bags down, carrying the food into the dinning room. "What?" As he passes me by, I get a hard kiss to my cheek. "Once the cat's away, the mouse will play?" He takes all the containers out of the plastic bags, dumping out plastic utensils, tiny packets of condiments and generic napkins.

"Nah, it's..." My mind wanders for something. "... I had plans." That's a lie, too. Sort of. I made plans in my head, but never got confirmed until Brian called me back this morning.

"Plans?" Ben wrinkles his brow in thought, wondering if I may have mentioned this previously. "With who?"

"Uhm... well..." I can feel it now. More lies. I'll need wading boots and a sturdy shovel soon. "... it was supposed to be a Boys Nite Out, but..." I have... accomplices... I call them friends... who will know what I'm doing with their reputations. They'll cover my ass if Ben gets way to possessive. "... Em and Ted canceled on me."

"Oh... babe. Sorry to hear that." Ben points into the kitchen. "Can you get some plates?" He makes the dining of food more intimate by pulling over the second chair, closer to the head of the table. I guess that's where he expects me to sit, since he sat down at the head.

I wander into the kitchen. His eyes don't follow me, but he still keeps the conversation flowing.

"And? So? You made new plans?" Ben's using the big plastic spoons they gave us to dip into the different containers.

I return with two plates. Good ones, thick ceramic. "Yeah... I did." I even went into the fridge to get Ben a bottle of water. I also got one for me, but that's for my road trip to Brian's loft. "With Brian." I stand next to the empty chair waiting for the usual heavy sigh and eye roll. It doesn't happen.

"Oh?" Ben slows down his actions of dividing up the food. "... you two going out?" He's not making eye contact and that's a good thing.

"No. He, uh... he wants me to help him." I sit down only to make our bodies level. I hate looking down at him, because him looking up at me makes me feel like a "parental" moment... and Ma perfected THAT move most of my life.

"With what?" Ben is already digging into the noodles and sauces. He spread a paper napkin over his lap. He brings out the plastic bags again to see if they gave us chopsticks.

"Work. A new client."

"Michael, that's a little..." Ben uses another napkin to wipe at his mouth.

I know Ben thinks it must be ridiculous for me to be helping Brian with an ad campaign, but this one's different. I've simply chosen not to explain details very well for Ben to understand. Brian is MY business. "Brian's buying a restaurant." I spit it out, not even sure if that plan went through or not. I hope Brian wasn't hanging on my feelings on the place to help make a decision for him.

"He is?" Ben stares down at the food on the table, almost prepared to ask me why hadn't we known sooner so we could have made plans to eat there. "What does he need you for?"

"I dunno." I shrug because it's true. I don't honestly know why Brian's calling me over. I'm only glad he's calling me, to come be with him, no matter what we do. "Moral support?" I'm tongue tied to tell Ben anymore.

Ben notices the kitchen's clean, so is the dining table and there... on the floor... sits my backpack. The one I normally bring to work with me. "Did you eat while I was gone?" He wants to make sure I don't neglect myself for Brian's welfare. Little does he know how much Brian over compensates for a lot of things with me. Food, included.

I've made it a project of mine to be able to make a few great meals with the leftovers in Brian's fridge and kitchen. Comes from growing up with a mother who could make a weeks worth of groceries stretch for a month. I bet Ben's never had a meal of only "side-dishes", like powdered mac-n-cheese and flaky Idaho mashed potatoes.

"Yes... I ate." Yet... another lie. I'm getting too good. I have to stop. The food smells delicious. I hope my stomach doesn't growl before I leave. Because I AM leaving.

"While I'd like nothing better than to spend an evening alone with my adorably, sexy husband... I DO realize I've monopolized your time for yourself all week. Plus... we'll be together, alone... in another week, for three weeks. I guess it's alright if you want to spend a few hours with your best friend, Brian."

The silence and utter calm from him makes me wary. I can hear the jealousy building, even though Ben's behaving.

"You say that like it's a bad thing." I stand up to leave. My keys are hooked on my backpack. I lean over to grab the side of Ben's neck and kiss him quite soundly.

Not anything like what Brian and I shared the past two days. I can almost be assured of Ben's place in my life... it's Brian's that I'm afraid of losing.

Ben latches onto my wrist. "Should I be concerned?" He looks up at me and I'm want to confess all... but I don't.

"No."

And that... is my biggest lie of all.

~*~

I knock on the metal door frame, knowing it's unlocked. I want to know Brian's crazily anticipating me just as eager as I am to see him. I hear Brian yell for me to "come in" and I slide the door to the right. Once I'm in, I close and lock it. I don't set the security code in case I'm not staying. I don't know why I feel like I'm staying, but I think I might. I'm here, finally, with Brian and there's a part of me that's curious to these "visits" Vic's giving Brian. And... there's a change of clothes in my bag. Only for emergencies, not on purpose. I'm not that horny.

I've got both backpack straps over my shoulders, my thumbs tucked under each. My mouth is agape because the loft looks as if a tornado passed through and Brian sits frustratingly in the center of it all.

Not only is the loft a mess, but the music's on the stereo, low volume but drowning out the television. The TV's on a 24hr news channel and I think every single lamp or light Brian owns is turned on.

He's seated on the floor, in front of his long couch. One leg under the coffee table, the other bent and being used as his drawing board. He's sketching something or creating a layout for the advertising campaign he's been attempting to work on this week.

"Did you fire your housekeeper?" I blurt out in a tease. I didn't think Brian would take me seriously, but he did.

"Yeah."

"Why?" I'm flabbergasted I can even see some of the hardwood flooring. I move to put my bag down and take off my jacket. I'll keep it in a tiny alcove where Brian won't trash them or fling them around.

"She kept throwing things away."

I laugh and shake my head. I move to find some garbage bags. I think I'm gonna be here awhile. I'll keep myself busy as Brian talks to me and we work his problem out. "Shit, Brian... isn't that her job?!"

"Sure... but... with Vic coming around an' leavin' me sticky Love Notes..." Brian was speaking quite honestly. "... I can't take the chance she'll pitch something important."

"Ah... and this seemed logical to you?"

"I paid her to take a two week vacation. She seemed satisfied, no complaints."

"Why two weeks?"

"I'm hoping to figure this thing out in two weeks... before you're gone." Brian leans his head back to smile over at me, winking. "You know... so you don't have to worry about me while you're fucking your husband."

"How kind of you?" I walk into the kitchen and the first thing on my list is to throw out food. Especially smelly, foreign-looking, bacteria-ridden food. "Did you win the Lottery, as well."

"Nah..." Brian hefts himself onto the couch, drawing with his pencil in a frenzy. "... why do you ask?"

"Your utilities this month will be astronomical."

Brian leans over to pick up the tiny remote on the coffee table, turning the volume down on the music. "Sometimes... this is the only way I can get some peace and quiet." He arcs his arm over the back of the couch cushions. "I didn't invite you over to be my maid, Michael."

I make a face, picking out my second garbage bag. "So... uh, you know who... is still coming around?" I watch as he sighs, eyes dropping and then he returns to sit on the cushions correctly.

"Yes. More now than ever." Brian huffs out a long breath, lifting his feet to balance them on the edge of the coffee table. "I think he's pissed at me." He slouches on the couch.

I let my arms hang, looking over at the back of his head on the couch. "Why didn't you call me? I would have..."

Brian throws his pencil and drawing pad on the coffee table, causing some folders and papers to fall. "What? You would have... what?" He rubs his hands over his face, then slaps his palms on his thighs. He stands and walks around the couch. He leans on the frame, crossing his arms and cupping his elbows. "You would have come over annnnnnnnnnd... held my hand, made me cocoa, kissed my brow, tucked me in... and cleverly shoo-ed away The Bogeyman?"

I tighten my lips and turn back to my duties. "If he's disturbing you enough to effect your work... it's becoming a problem."

"I'm being double-teamed..."

I swivel slowly on one foot to stare at Brian. "Excuse me?!"

I'm sorry... that sounded rather dirty and raunchy. My mind is sure in the gutter quickly and I'm kind of jealous.

Brian smirks and squints over at me. "Perv."

"You said it!"

"... and you THOUGHT it!!"

We share a small smile as he ventures over to his fridge. He pulls out two beers, using the counter to take off each cap. He hands me a cold one, which I put down on the stove top. Brian wanders around to sit on a stool. He's digging around for the phone book and the cordless phone.

I'm unsure where we are in the scheme of things. I've talked to Brian, over the phone. We've spent time in the company of others. But we haven't spent time together, alone. At least since that out-of-this-world kiss we shared barely a week ago... and then the one before that...

While I've turned myself into Brian's "June Cleaver", he orders our dinner. It'll be here in fifteen minutes, give or take. I think that's enough time to get the loft into some cleanliness for a brief sprout of an audience. But then I'm reminded, Brian can meet the delivery person downstairs. I don't have to rush and give myself a mild coronary.

Brian takes a swig of beer, then settles his arm on the bar counter to rest his cheek. He's watching me putter around. Jerk.

"Well... I may have found out why you kept feeling so weird... at the restaurant."

"Really?" I pause in my work efforts, taking a swig of cool liquid. "How?"

"You HAVE been there before."

"Seriously?" I furrow my brow in befuddlement. "As, like, a customer?"

"I'm dead serious." Brian walks back over to the living room to pick up some metal box. He carries the box over to the breakfast bar and sets it down. He plugs in some combination and opens the lid. "I could never make this type of stuff on my own." He shuffles through a pile of pictures, pulling out a tiny stack. "Certainly when there's photographic proof." He passes them over to me.

I don't even bother to look at them, for a moment. "Soooo... you didn't really miss me?" Now I want to know exactly why I'm here.

"I did. I missed you. " Brian threads his fingers, steepling his hands in front of his mouth. "I do miss you... when you're not around."

"Good." I take a glance at the top picture, but it's quite grainy and dark. All I see is a short kid running around a bunch of white jacket-ed adults. "And you're not trying to avoid me? Or us?" It's weird how I'm looking at the picture but not really seeing the images. It's because I'm also looking over at Brian, waiting with baited breath for his answers.

"You're here. In my loft. At night, with me. Ben's away..." Brian removes his hands and grins broadly. "I'm afraid what would have happened had I told you the wine was chilling and dinner was warming in the oven."

"Yeah... smooth, Romeo." I put the photos down on the counter, in a neat stack. "Look... about Ben... he came home as I was leaving."

Brian snickers softly. "What did you do... climb out your bedroom window to break curfew?"

"No." I stare intently at Brian, no emotions on my face. "I told him where I was going and who I'd be with."

He cannot believe the words I'm speaking. "... and you made it here safely, unscathed?"

"I may have..." I roll my hand in the air. "... embellished the Truth a tad." I go back to cleaning up the kitchen and placing dirty dishes in the sink. I run the water to get hot.

"Mikey..."

There... again... whoa!...

Brian can tell I'm shaken. "What?"

"Nothing." I flick my head, but I stop. I lean back on the far counter, next to the fridge. "You haven't called me that in awhile." I could almost say I'm lightheaded, feeling faint.

"You used to hate it." He bites at his thumbnail, showing how nervous he is at the moment. I'm a little relieved I'm not the only one.

"Not when you said it."

"Sorry." Brian wasn't really sorry. He shrugs, then plays bongo drums with his palms on the counter top, very softly. "Old habit." He's waiting for me to pick a fight with him. I'm not in the mood.

"Don't be sorry." I shrug one shoulder. I move to the sink and place the stopper in the drain. I fill the basin with water to let the dishes soak. I squirt a bit of dish washing liquid into the murky depths. "I actually miss it."

"You haven't been 'MIKEY' in..." Brian gives a wane smile, his eyes sad and mournful. "... well, forever..."

"And this is bad?" I lean my pelvis forward on the counter ledge.

"No." Brian shakes his head, belying the look on his features. "It's a great thing. I just..."

I turn off the water. "You miss him." I wipe my hands on a dish towel. "Me."

"Not really, no." Brian takes a swallow of beer, then averts his head, looking down. "I miss... I suppose I miss the ways I thought he needed me."

At that comment, we both look at each other. Brian's the first one to break eye contact.

I swallow the lump in my throat. I'd never heard him say anything like that... ever. "He still needs you." I close my eyes in foolishness. "... *I*... still need you." I open my lids to find Brian smiling again.

"I know what you meant." Brian arches back, taking a long look at me. "Why? What makes you need me so much anymore? To remind you of the past we'd like to forget? You have a great future in your grasp and you..."

"No... it's not like like. I'll always need you. I still need you to keep me in line, when I fuck up. To make sure I don't steer off the path or get my ass kicked by the Cooler Kids." I hear Brian chuckle, then I move to drink some more beer. "You are probably the only person who knows what makes me happiest, better than I do."

"I doubt that." Brian rolls his eyes, not sure he can accept that kind of importance in my life. I aim to show him he does. "Back to the reason I called you over." He reaches for one of the other bar stools and opens his briefcase. He tugs out a thick folder, then he hands me it over the counter. "... the owner of the restaurant has left his new ad campaign in my hands. He won't go with anyone else. He gave me this manila file..." He gestures to the folder in my hands. "... of some of their past adverts, in newspapers and magazines. I mean... the stuff goes back to, like, 1943. Plus, he practically shoved this at me." He pats the metal box he opened earlier, full of pictures. "Apparently, back in the days of yore, the place was a 'hub' for the rich, fabulous and not-quite-so-famous. It was family run and family oriented. I'm pretty sure that's why they got the type of clients they did in the first place." He splayed one hand to stretch out five fingers in the air above him. "They had this wall of pictures, out in the dining area... with known faces. Some even autographed. Then back in the kitchen... there was another wall... filled with all walks of families, of the employees who worked there."

"Why is it doing terrible now? What happened?" I find I'm not interested in working, so I come around the counter and sit on the one stool furthest from Brian. I bring the stack of pictures and the file with me.

"Got out of the original owner's hands. Got away from being centered around family. The restaurant catered to the Elite and Rich. Not that the idea tanked and was a total waste. They made some serious cash-ola and broke even some days, but they became... a little too big for their britches."

"Boast too much about yourself or your product, bound to get some negative flack."

"Exactly."

"This owner, the one you're dealing with, what's his stake in all the hoopla?"

"It's come back into family hands. He isn't directly related, but his grandmother is."

I nod my head, finding this whole situation easily understandable. "He must love her a lot." I'm a little more intrigued than I should be.

Brian moved his head to claim "so-so". "She took him in when neither of his parents wanted him, but she had a heavy hand of control. He knows he owes her his entire life and the fortunes he's made because of her teachings, but it's getting to be too much. And she's getting much too old to appreciate what he's doing. He's running out of options. None of his children want it and he couldn't give this place away for free. He thought about demolishing the entire building, then simply selling the real estate on the market, but..." He held out both arms wide. "... I walked in and heard the whole story from one of his longtime employees. And I've been... trapped ever since." He doesn't look like he feels "trapped". He looks as if he's got a new challenge on his hands and he can't solve it as quickly as he thought.

"So... this account is pretty delicate to handle?" Now that I know the real story, I'm thinking I'll do anything I can to help Brian become a success. I'm that confident in his business savvy and common sense.

"Yeah... and I keep hitting a road block on any idea I come up with." Brian places his palms together, then uses his hands to pretend like his fingers are moving forward. "I get to a certain point..." He moves toward me. "... and then I can't move forward." He stops before he reaches me.

"And these..." I hold up the older advertising campaigns. "... aren't helping you at all?"

"They are... and they aren't. Sometimes I think I've found something original, then I look through them and discover I'm almost plagiarizing them, word for word."

"Okay..." I slowly nod my head as I've opened the folder and I realize there's quite a few adverts to look through. "... where are you now?"

"Blank page. Clean slate."

I don't look at Brian but I stop and think for a minute. I wish we could go back and start over, too. I feel like we've missed a step somewhere or we jumped forward when I least expected us to. Funny, it worked for us when Brian returned from college, but coming back into our friendship fold today feels... different. But it's a good different, just feels weird. Like we're looking at one another with new eyes, but with the same old feelings.  
"Well... that's certainly not very inspiring... or helpful."

"Rest of my Bad to Worse ideas are strewn on the coffee table, all over the floor and crumpled up into balls and thrown in... THAT..." "THAT" was Brian pointing toward the television. "... general direction."

"Good aim." I now notice all the balls of paper lying at the foot of the entertainment center.

"Helps when you despise the news anchor or what they're saying."

"Not helping, either?"

"I get angry, for like a minute... my blood will boil. Not enough to cause me to react with a burst of creativity."

"... and the Music and Light Show does what?"

Brian lifts up one side of his mouth in semi-smile. "Keeps the annoying, non-talkative, persistent dead spirits away."

"Has he really gotten THAT bad?" I'm curious to why Vic's gotten a bit out of hand for being dead.

"In the span of three days... I haven't slept more than two-n-a-half hours at a time."

"You're still functioning in other ways?" I just want to know if he's been outside once and awhile, answered the phone or gotten his mail. I need to know these things to know he's alright.

"Yes... I showered." Brian moves around the room to find where he put his wallet. "I need some type of normalcy. " He heads into his bedroom. he shakes his head in perplexity. "He just... refuses to talk to me."

"Who? " I yell a little louder so he can hear me. "Vic?" It's obvious "who" he means, but I have to be sure we're both on the same page.

"I don't get it!" Brian walks down the steps with some cash in his hands, placing the bills in his front pocket. "He talked with me before." He's looking around the loft floor for something, probably his shoes. "In fact... he kept cornering me in Babylon."

"This was when your cancer hit?" I like watching Brian move across the loft. It's weird, he's completely dressed, but he walks the same as if he were naked. Jeans, t-shirt, button-down short-sleeve shirt open to expose the white cotton. He's in his bare feet, but that's just Brian.

I slip my shoes off, they plop onto the floor.

"Yeah." Brian muttered, coming back to pick up his beer. "We talked every time." He took a long swig, then swallowed looking at the ceiling.

"Maybe he's not allowed to." I shrug, unable to explain anything about this ghost of Vic Grassi.

"That's silly."

"Brian, frankly... this whole thing is pretty wacked out. You're lucky I know you and Vic. I'd be calling the white coats to come take you away."

"I want... some uninterrupted sleep. Call the white coats tomorrow." Brian's off to look in the living room for his shoes.

"How about I not call them at all and spend the night." I'm not asking Brian, I'm telling him what I'm about to do for him. "Or at the very least, until I can figure this ad campaign dilemma out for you."

"What about Ben?" Brian's a bit troubled by my confidence level or maybe he's like me... thinking what would happen if we kissed again, like the past two times. He pops up from digging underneath the couch, one shoe in his hand.

"I'll deal with him later."

Brian quirks up one lone eyebrow... and I'm smitten, most likely blushing. I can safely disguise it by the over exertion of my house(loft)keeping duties.

"I'm here now and you need me. If I left to go back home, some time tonight, I'd just be sleepless and worried about you there."

"Is this a usual thing?" Brian is tickled to hear how he affects me... even now, after all these years. "Me keeping you up often?"

"Practically... always..."

"Niiiiiiiiiiice."

Brian has no idea... and I'm not telling him one thing more. Asshole.

 **~*~TBC...**


	3. Chapter 3

**Michael's POV** **:** ( _con't_ )

  
He started out in the bedroom. He'd been sleeping for more than three hours and forty-five minutes. I think what happened was that the air was too quiet, he was able to wake himself, realizing he'd been out for more than usual. When he had drifted off earlier I wasn't able to ask how Vic normally made his presence known. Like what should I look for and what should I do once he appeared. I was simply aware of everything, every little noise about the place. Except the non-patter of his bare feet.

I had left the TV on, with no sound. Music was unmuted, but on low volume. I had even toned the bright lighting some.

I wasn't expecting Brian to awaken so soon. I had hoped to escape once I was done with my terribly off-key drawings, while he was slumbering.

I had boiled water, making tea. Coffee would be too strong for this late at night. I started by sitting in the chair caddy corner to the couch. I often imagined that when Brian wanted to redecorate the living room, after buying all new furniture, he thought about me... once. The chair was way too comfortable, but perfect for me, I found myself dozing off. By the time Brian walked out to check on me and nosy about, I was on the couch, curled into one corner.

"Hey..." Brian murmurs as he walks down the two steps from his bedroom. "... how's it going?" He slept in his jeans, nothing else. He was in the middle of putting on his t-shirt. He sits down hard in the other corner of the couch, near my socked feet.

"It goes." I mumble, drawing on the sketch pad I found on the coffee table.

Brian looks around the loft, amazed by what I had accomplished while he had slept. "Thanks for... getting rid of my mess." He leans toward me, shuffling down the cushions. He lays his head, cheek on a hip, on my bent legs. He hugs them to his chest, like a favorite teddy bear. "You didn't have to." He closes his eyes, sighing heavily.

"I know I didn't, but I'm here... and I'm willing without being asked." I shouldn't have said that. Well, those exact words.

When Brian wakes up... lights low, bodies radiating heat and the middle of the night... he's a little wild. Not rambunctious wild, just highly sexual. Without Babylon to curb those feelings and an equally warm and willing accomplice, sometimes whomever he was with would get the brunt of his exploits. I know this because... I've been that "whomever" quite a few times before he realizes who I am.

He drags himself up more, one hand clamping over the hip he once rested on. My t-shirt rose up a little, he found a way underneath the cotton. The sensation shoots right up my body. "Does anything else fall under that category?" He snickers, then bites behind my ear, nuzzling that particular area. Hair included.

"Like what?" I plop over onto my back, hugging the sketches I've done to my chest.

Here we go... Moment of Truth. Will Brian bite... or only bite me?

"Oh... I don't know..." The fingers travel across my abdomen, sliding up my rib cage. His thumb pad barely skims my nipple. I glance up as Brian looks down and his lips aren't too far from every inch of my face. "... you seemed... eager and willing to kiss me senseless the last few times we've been together."

Strange, how moments when he and I are together seem to only include me... being horny for HIM.

I should demand more, the words I've been fantasizing about hearing from his mouth. Oddly, it's enough for me to listen to what Brian thinks. Me being the one giving sensational smooches. Quite fitting that I feel the emotions when we lock lips is mostly coming from him. I'm only reacting to being kissed. Like I always do.

I sit up, Brian leans back on the cushions. I hand him the drawing pad. "I'm no artist like you or Justin, but... I hope this is okay..." Once the work is in his hands, he holds them up in the air, getting a good, faraway look. I lay back down, unable to watch Brian look at what I just finished drawing. "I did, like..." I realize he's staring at the first one, so I help turn to the second and third pages. "... a series of three for each concept..."

Brian's serious now, sliding back upward. "Michael..." He glances over the pen/pencil sketches. He slowly shakes his head in awe. "I'm, uh... speechless. I wasn't expecting you to..."

I didn't want to hear it. I don't like praise, especially when I'm right in the room. "They're very rough, as you can see. You don't even have to use what I drew. But I do think it's a direction you should consider."

"Where did you come up with the concept of the Chef with the little boy?" He keeps flipping through each of the images.

"Very Norman Rockwell-ian, huh?"

"Sure, but I like it. It does fit everything you came up with here. Maybe even how the owner wants the atmosphere of the restaurant to return to. You might have even helped me with the pitch ideas for TV spots."

"Whoa... whoa!" I place my hand in the general space of his chest. I don't have to actually touch him to feel him. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Spielberg."

"Where did you...?" Brian isn't sure I haven't turned into probably his most favorite human being on Earth.

I reach over to nab the photograph I'd found in the midst of all the other pictures Brian had given me. "You wondered why Vic wanted you to check out the place. More curious to why I was in some of these pictures." I wait until I have Brian's undivided attention. "I wasn't a customer there. Vic was their pastry chef once. I'm not certain of the time line..." I hold the photograph for Brian to see. He grabs it to look at the image himself, a little closer.

Someone had snapped a candid shot of me with Vic as he was making some dessert, more than likely a cake. I was about toddler age or close. The memory of that time isn't clear, like I'd like it to be. I find that the longer Vic's gone, the more my memories of him slip away. Those ones I'm already shaky on often fade away first. Pretty soon, I fear, Vic will slip away from me completely.

"Jesus... Christ..." Brian turns his head in mild disgust. I think he's upset with himself, how callous he could be to drag me into this messy restaurant stuff.

"Don't be pissed. You didn't know. How could you? Hell... it took me forever to rack my brain to why I felt so comfortable there yesterday. I think it was the only place Vic worked that allowed a tiny nuisance like me to putter around." I laugh outright, showing Brian how content I am with everything. I don't want him to needlessly worry. "In the kitchen or out there in the dining area. Everything was all so put-together and elegant. I was scared I'd break something and get yelled at." I watch Brian smile, give out a tiny chuckle and bow his head to look at the photo. He can only imagine what I looked like as a child and he's only got his own childhood to fall back to understand what it means to have moments to treasure. And I'm wondering if... well, when exactly did Jack and Joan start showing their hatred for their son?

Actually, you know what... I don't want to know. Brian knows me, knows Vic... that's enough for him to use his imagination. I won't push any further.

"I'm sorry." Brian placed the picture on my chest, hanging his head. "We don't have to..."

"Are you kidding me?" I swipe up the picture and swat him in the face. "I'll stab you with a salad fork if you don't consider using something I thought of." Man, that kind of sounded egotistical of me. I'll take that back, thank you. "You don't have to do things word for word or the exact pictures I drew... just the image would be cool. If... you know..." I didn't want to say it. Recommend to Brian that he honor my uncle in his restaurant venture.

Brian bends down to place a light kiss to my brow, then he rests his face on mine. "You're an amazing person, do you know that?" I don't know how he did it, those long, muscular arms finding their way around my torso and clutching me close. He meshes his cheek to my left shoulder, squishing me.

Oh... Brian likes to cuddle in the dark. Or is it... he likes to cuddle with me in the dark? I like to have faith in the latter.

I close my eyes, then open them back up when Brian pulls away to look down at me. "What brought that on?"

The sketch pad falls between us, a nice hard, stiff barrier. That doesn't stop Brian from seeking closeness.

He brings up his left hand, fist-shaped, and caresses my cheek, along my jaw. "Your innate ability to overlook the things you're feeling... for the sake of other people..." He finds the shape of my lips fascinating, then the tip of my nose, back up to my eye lashes and eyebrows. "... other things."

I reach up to lock my hand around Brian's wrist, to touch him but to also keep him from touching me more. "It's only a picture, Brian. One five second shot of my life." I'm trying to brush off how I really feel, because I know how important this is for Brian. To be a success at all, and any, cost. "I barely even remember that time."

"Which is why you need to be angry?" His brow falls on my temple. His hair swishes to fall on my skin.

I wanna kiss it... kiss him... kiss his skin... lick his skin... I wrinkle my brow in befuddlement. "Huh? Why?"

"Because..." He lifts his head up. "... you were robbed of moments when you could have asked Vic - yourself- so he could help you remember." Brian's lip tighten in frustration.

I don't think I have enough gumption in me to be angry about that, he seems to have it covered for me. "Is THAT why you think I'm having trouble with Vic coming to 'see' you?" Since Brian won't call it a "haunting" and I haven't seen this proof for myself, I have to use my vocabulary carefully. The way Brian looks off in the distance, I know I'm right. "Oh, man! No... thank you..." He seems to not like my attitude, thinking I'd be more pissed. "I regret a LOT, but not for something that small. Not to mention big time selfish. With what Vic had to suffer through with HIV and all those bouts of illness, I'm glad he went as quickly as I did. Sure I'd change a few seconds of that day... maybe I'd have gotten to his side sooner, but... uhm..." I shake my head and shrug. "No... never will I regret anything to do with his death and MY need for him. That's just foolishness."

I'm not sure Brian expected me to say that, I think. Well, I'm certain Brian regrets Vic dying. More than likely he thinks Vic didn't know how much he meant to him. Being all cool, sarcastic and distant to everyone. But I think Vic actually DID know how Brian felt, like I always do, despite the words coming out of Brian's mouth pushing me away.

"What else do you... NOT regret?" Brian didn't glance up, eyes downward. He's found a stitch on my t-shirt to play with between his fingers. "Or should I ask... what DO you regret, if anything?" He finally does look directly at me as he slides down to bend his elbow on the couch armrest. Now he's... barely an inch from my face.

He still manages to smell good, despite all the hours that have passed in the day. Could be his t-shirt, could be Brian's own personal musk. It always hits me square in the gut. I wet my lips and find it was a bad idea. Brian's been watching me all this time. I think he's looking for subtle changes in my face, most importantly my eyes. Paying close attention to how my pupils dilate or the color of they darken or lighten.

I stare straight ahead. There will be an awful crick in my neck if I turn to look at Brian. "Enough... but that's not important now."

"What IS important?" He brings up his left arm, the hand scrapes my face again. Then it opens, fingers splayed to roam over my chest. He's pretending like he found some lint or flecks of crumbs on my shirt. I know he simply wants to touch me. He can't ever be near me without putting his hands on me. It's nice, familiar.

"The fact I've solved your dilemma. And..." I bring up my arm, glancing at my watch. "... that it's way past midnight and Cinder-fella will soon turn back into his ordinary role in life." I try to swing my legs off the couch, but Brian's got a nice grip of my body. As I sit up, I can only remain still.

Brian fidgets, trading one arm for another as he flipped over onto his back. His right arm latches about my waist. "Don't." His clutch is pretty tight. He means business.

"Don't what" I'm comfortable enough to lean back into Brian's body. I meant to swing my own arm up and onto the couch, but it only went as far as over Brian's form, landing on the cushions underneath him, my body turning to face him.

"... leave..." His hand begins to roam up and down my thigh. It's another good feeling, without being utterly perverted.

"Why? I..."

"... because... I still need you..." Brian's loses all foolishness from his features.

In muted hues of light, Brian appears harmless. The anti-sexual beast he's touted himself as for years. He's back to being the same gangly, awkward freak we both were at 14. Strange that I can still see THAT Brian Kinney in him, but yet see his beauty as well. I guess that's what you do when you love someone.. You see everyone... everything they ever were.

Ben tells me stories about his past, but I can only see him one way and it frightens me to see him any different. Like how he tells me he was just like Brian before HIV took over his life and health. I can't "see" it. Or maybe I just don't want to.

"Brian..." I shake my head, lowering my eyes.

The arm vanishes across my lap, making sure to caress those sensitive portions of my body. He raises up on his elbows. "We're not through here." He lifts his torso to almost meet me, head on. "I'm not ready to let you go..." He reaches out to cup my cheek, thumb rubbing flesh. "... just yet..."

Brian could be about to kiss me, on his own, but I'm not ready. No... not that I'm not ready for his kiss, I'm not prepared for what could follow after the kiss. The room is too full of missed opportunities. It's dark enough to create a mystery to get lost and caught up in. Like once it's done and over with we can lock it all away and forget it ever happened. I don't want that... not for me... not for us. If it was something Brian wanted.

I quirk one eyebrow up, Brian touches it's arch. "I only brought one set of clothes."

Brian snickers, nodding his head. He draws his body up, sitting upright now. "I have regrets, too." The hand is gone from my face. He's pulling his legs from behind me. He's going to position himself next to me. I think he knows what could happen, too. And it's interesting to see that Brian could be scared just like I am. "Lately, I've been realizing this more and more. This faithful companion... regret..." He leans back, his frame slinking into the cushions. His legs spread wide, feet flat on the floor. His thigh bumps mine. He's inviting me to sit back with him, possibly sink into his side.

I can't do that. Not at this time.

"Don't. Don't do this to yourself." I put my hand on his knee, squeezing for him to shut up. He's about to reveal something I'm not prepared for.

That's the other thing... this fractured darkness brings from Brian. He opens up to me, sometimes more than he should. It's gotten him into trouble. I know him too well because of these moments. He needs to know when to shut up.

"Why not?" Brian realizes I'm not gonna relax, so he sits forward. "The fact I have options now?" He clears his throat. "Or that I discovered too late I actually had them all this time?"

What is Brian getting at? "What options?" I draw my right leg up and sit facing Brian's left side. I keep my hands to myself.

"The right to choose."

"Choose?"

"Why didn't you tell me I had the right to choose you?"

I'm dumbfounded and speechless, for a minute. Brian rests his right elbow on his upper thigh, only turning his upper torso toward me. His eyes are wide and curious. He blinks slowly, awaiting my answer.

"Brian..." I don't really know how to respond. I surely wasn't expecting a question like that, this late at night.

He swivels his body to face mine. He draws his left leg up, but stretches it out. Then he reaches for my hips and he's dragging me close between his thighs. I'm practically on his lap. He's got himself totally wrapped around me. Even when he's sitting, he's a head taller than me. I could burrow in his chest and not give one care to the world.

In this dimmed lighting, the shadows Brian's body creates over me give his shoulders and biceps the image of being angel's wings... cradling me close to his heart. I feel so safe... so protected... I could confess all, tell him anything and he won't harm me.

"I'm trying, Michael. I've tried being you for this long. To suck it in and be the bigger person. But... I find I'm not very good at it." He nudges me to dip low, my head on his shoulder, tucked into his neck. "It hurts too much." He rubs over my bare skin, down my forearms. "I want... what I want, when I want it and I want it now... not later." The soothing stops, there's tight gripping and he bows his head to lay on my hair. "I feel it now more than ever. I think that's why this is happening to me."

I'm weakened by those words. They almost sound exactly like what I want to hear... except for one or two things. What I can't fathom is why Brian's chosen now to say all this out loud.

My right arm is meshed in Brian's chest, the hand gripping his thigh. I bring my other arm up, thinking I'm going to push him away. I don't... I actually slide under his arm and encircle his chest. I can't look at him now. He seems okay with that. "What are you saying?" I sound a little spacey, my voice soft and sorrowful.

"Well... I'm not breaking up with you... if that's what you're thinking..."

I have to laugh. We both sound so pitiful and nervous. Scared to death of what this could mean. We don't want to hurt anyone, we don't want to hurt one another. So easy to not fall. To not trap ourselves in what might happen... if we gave in just this once. Let temptation take over and drive for awhile. Maybe we've been doing this wrong all this time. We don't know how to get it right, how to meet each other when the timing's off.

I slide my hand backward to come up and around Brian's neck. I pull us apart. "What are you doing?"

Brian leans our foreheads together. "Maybe I've crossed lines. Done some things to confuse you. But the one thing I think I've always made clear was... I'm here. I was always the 'other' option. You have more of a right to choose me than anyone else in my life." He presses a kiss to my fevered skin. On the cheek, along the jaw, up near my ear lobe.

I draw back from him. "So... I was supposed to guess? Blindly choose at random when you were ready?" I rush out a frustrated breath, shaking my head. "I didn't know, Brian. How was I to know...?"

Brian cups the sides of my neck, as I drop my hand. His fingers are sliding in my hair. "I'm not angry at you... much." He shrugs one shoulder and lifts up that side of his mouth. "Mainly, I'm aggravated with myself."

"Why?"

"Because what I've been doing has led you to believe that things have changed, when they haven't."

"They did!" I breathlessly yell my words on a chuckle.

"But my feelings for you didn't change!" Brian's just as upset as I'm getting. Both of us with ourselves.

"Neither did mine!" Our eyes are meeting, flickering across our faces. We share a knowing smile of awkward understanding.

We've reach some kind of bridge, coming into the same thought.

Brian can't stop smiling.

I put a hand over my mouth. "Fuck! What are we saying?"

His thumbs tuck under my hand. I drop it. He soothes the skin under my bottom lip. "That maybe we need to give something new a chance."

Is it possible for him to get closer to me, because it feels like he is...

"I'm married... about to go on a honeymoon in five days..." I don't mean to be obvious or a downer, but it's the truth.

"... something we've never done before..." Brian's still talking in this weird haze of soft excitement.

"Did you hear me?" I shake him out of his fantasy.

"Yes. I'm looking right at you. Of course I did."

"Why are you acting so calmly about this?"

"Maybe that extra hour and a half of sleep brought me some clarity."

"Ha! Not likely."

"Michael..."

"What?!"

"Come here."

"You plan on kissing me?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Jesus Christ!" My hands can't help but bunch in Brian's t-shirt. I want to rip it off him. Kissing him is definitely out of the question.

"I just want to hold you." Damn... he sounds sincere and sensitive to my needs, a bit romantic.

"Riiiiiiight. Your eyes always tell me different." They're a deeper, richer hazel now. "So does your body." I can feel he's gotten hotter, his heart pumping fast.

"I CAN control it."

"Great. Happy for you." Makes me feel like a horndog.

"Michael... don't pout..." He smooshes the lines in the center of my forehead. "... you'll get premature wrinkles."

"That could be a good thing. I'll stop looking attractive to you." I throw a hand over his eyes as he chuckles deeply. I can only imagine how he'd look with a blindfold on. "Is it the way I smell? My voice?" I deepen the tone for no other reason than to see Brian's wide, nearly glowing smile. "My tiny, pocket-size stature? The fact I've known you since... forever?"

He snatches my wrist, grabbing for my other hand, as he relaxes backward on the couch. He's pulling me up his body. "It's not one thing, but every... thing about you..."

"... fan-fuckin'-tastic..." I mutter as I allow Brian to tug me wherever he wants me. He tucks me into his side, close between the cushions. He lets me use him as a pillow.

"Why don't you..." Brian places a gentle hand on my head to calm me down. "... close your eyes and rest. If you fall asleep, I promise I'll drive you home."

"I drove myself." I remind him of how I got here.

"I know where your keys are... and we already know how good of a promise keeper I'm not." Brian sounds like he's about to do anything to keep me from leaving. Even hiding my keys from me.

"You can't keep me here, under my will." I wish he would, because I'll have a legit excuse instead of the one where I'm feeling horny for him and want us to fuck all night long.

"And who would protect you from the Big Bad Ben?" Brian secures both arms around me, snuggling me near.

"I can handle Ben." I almost mutter the words into Brian's shirt. I bring my hand up to clamp on the thin fabric.

"Can you? The way you masterminded your way here, tonight?" Brian is attempting not to laugh at my foolish ways to behave. To not become like HIM... and cheat on my husband.

I lied to Ben. True, but the bigger lie was laying right with me. "I was caught unawares. Had to think on my feet. Used what was left of my cognizant brain cells."

"Michael... close your eyes and shut up..."

I do just that. "... rude..." Sort of.

"You're tired." He kisses the top of my head. A hand comes up to comb through my hair, thinking massaging my scalp will lull me into slumber. "You're getting cranky." He reaches down with the other hand and lifts my leg to fit quite comfortably between his legs. I'm all kinds of spread-out over him now.

"... shithead..." I mean this in the sweetest, kindest way possible. He knows I'm not really calling him this. I've called him worse. Mostly behind his back, but sometimes in his face, too.

"Mikey..." Brian strains his neck, his head arcing over the arm rest. The motion sent his body upward, as well. I can feel how much he wants this, too. He's trying to be good... for my sake.

My old nickname on his lips makes me melt. I'm a puddle in his arms. Like one couldn't tell already. I swear I'm putting up a fight... later...

I AM getting sleepy. Didn't know I was so exhausted. "... arm-twisting, smart-ass enabler..."

Brian softly chuckles, his chin on my brow, fingers sliding down to my nape and under the collar of my t-shirt. "G'night, as well."

I'm not even aware he's touching me anymore. It's that natural... this normal pattern of falling asleep in his arms. I don't quite fit this perfectly with Ben, but I always make do... and... I should really catch some kind of sleep before I head back home. I just hope I wake up in time before it's early morning and I have to open the store.

I'm out before Brian closes his own eyes. I hope he sleeps, too. The idea of him... alone with my body, sends shivers right through me.

Brian simply holds me closer.

This day is going to be very long, indeed.

~*~

I know I fell asleep with Brian under me, but now as I wake up, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, he's nowhere to be found. But as I scoot around on my stomach, untucking my arms from under me, I glance down to discover exactly where Brian wandered off to.

He must have woken up and went back to working on the advertising campaign. I shake my head in disbelief. He actually fell asleep working. He curled himself under the coffee table, on the floor below me. He tried to stretch out between the table and couch, but there wasn't much room. He snaked his body around a table leg, slumbering in a curve.

I'm sorry. It doesn't look remotely comfortable. And it's the floor. He's got pillows and a blanket, but... I still think it's bad for his back.

I reach down to shake him awake. "Brian!" My voice goes soft, calling out. "Hey! Brian!" My tone raises a little higher.

Brian flinches and promptly lunges upward, forgetting he's under real glass. "Ouch- Fuck!" His hand presses at the back of his pounding head. He curses more, deep in his pillow.

"Brian..."

"What?!" He's grumpy. I don't blame him. He hit his head hard. I'm surprised he didn't shatter the glass.

"It got awful chilly in here fast. Is your heater broken?" I turn a little to find Brian had placed a thin blanket over me. It's not warm enough. I think I'm missing Brian's bodily warmth.

"No." Brian groans, sliding his body out the other side of the coffee table. He remains seated on the floor, his eyes alert about the room. He looks a little woozy from the knock on his head.

"What?" I sit up, too. "What's wrong?"

"It can feel this way..." His voice is barely a whisper. "... when Vic shows up." He draws his knees to his chest, the blanket covering some of his nakedness. He's still wearing his jeans.

Wonderful! That reminded me I still forgot to ask Brian the specifics of these moments with my uncle. Dammit!

"Is he...?" My own eyes peruse the darkened room. There's no TV and no music. Only the low lights. "Do you see him?" I look back at Brian, who isn't moving at all. Watching and waiting, trying to see in the other areas of the loft that are darker.

"No. Not yet." Brian plants one hand on the floor to heft himself up.

"Wha-? Where are you going?" I know the loft is one huge space, but I didn't want him to leave me alone... anywhere.

"To turn on some lights. You made it too dark in here."

"Too dark? Brian... we were sleeping. Low lights set the mood needed..."

"Yeah..." He wandered over to one floor lamp, twisting the tiny ON switch. "... but they also invite those things that go bump in the night." He chose the right moment to "bump" some furniture.

"Jesus! Brian, don't...!" I place a hand over my heart.

There's another floor lamp near me. He turns that one on, too. "Don't what?"

"Talk like that."

Brian smirks, looking down at me. The blanket wrapped around his body. "Why? Am I scaring you?" He puts a hand down to caress the side of my face.

"No... well, yeah... maybe..." I push his touch away in a huff.

"Here... c'mon..." Brian holds out his hand for me to take. "... grab my hand..." He throws his blanket over the couch, with mine.

I do take his hand and I squeeze so tight Brian makes a noise of pain. I loosen my grip, some. "Promise not to tease me?" I rise up off the couch, standing near Brian, holding his hand to my chest. I know he can feel my heart beating. "And don't make ghost noises."

"I promise."

It sounded honest, but I'm not sure. He was smiling, too. As he draws me closer, something else went "BUMP!"... then something fell and then the something shattered.

I never jumped so high in my life, right onto Brian's back. I, also, may have screeched like a female... a little too loudly. I slide down Brian's body, planting my feet on solid hardwood flooring.

"Now THAT... was excellent timing!" Brian snickers as I softly punch him in the chest. "Uhm..." He rubs the raw area. "... Ow-ch!"

"I told you NOT to tease me! I'm scared enough as it is!"

"No?! REALLY!?" I detect some sarcasm. "The fingers embedded, permanently in my flesh, tell me different."

"Sorry." I release my clutch of his biceps. "I'm skittish."

"No kidding."

I soothe the reddening welts on Brian's arms. I can even see my half-moon nail beds in the skin. "Is this how it is every night?" I slip behind Brian, latching onto his torso, under his arms. I plaster myself to his back.

We're coming around the backside of the couch, heading toward the bedroom. I hate that it's dark in there. Brian was right. I turned off too many lights.

"Sometimes." Brian takes tiny steps forward. I think I'm not making this any easier for him. "Try doing this alone."

"No, thank you!" I rush out as I peek over his shoulder. I can't see anything. I'm barely making out the shapes of his furniture.

Brian reaches back with one hand to reassure me. "Are you okay to move?" He wants to walk faster. I must be holding him back.

I smile up at him. "Your body's blocking mine. The ax murder will slice you first or... the bloody soul-sucker will take you before me."

"Thanks for looking out for me, Mikey."

"I'll miss you."

"I'm honored."

"Hey! You're my best friend. You're also taller and bigger-shaped than me. You're a great body shield." There's no sense in telling a lie now.

"Be sure to write that on my tombstone." Brian's taking larger steps, I realize I have to keep up.

"Has he come out, yet? Shown his face?"

"No." Brian shifts his head to the other bedroom doorway. "No. This isn't an exact science, you know?"

"No, I don't know. You're the only expert." I don't mean to be rude or boldface, but Brian hasn't told me much of anything in how to handle myself during these things.

"Reluctant... amateur... expert." Brian makes sure to clarify who he is in this troubled mess.

"Put it this way... you know more than me."

Suddenly, I feel a breeze at my back. Brian and I turn at the same time to find the long windows' curtains ruffling, even though the windows weren't open.

"Is he...?"

"Michael... will you please shut up..." Brian is already on edge and I'm pushing him over.

I bury my face in Brian's naked back. I close my eyes. "Inform me when it's all over."

"Then stop asking questions or look for your-..."

He pauses at such a peculiar place, I look up. "Look for my - what?"

Brian reaches behind with both hands to keep me stationary behind him. "Vic's in the bedroom."

"How? Did he walk across the floor into the room? I didn't..." I lift a little to peek over Brian's shoulder. I don't see a thing, but I do hear something... like heavy footsteps. "What's he doing in there?"

"Can't you see him?" Brian asks with a little confusion.

"No." I'm slightly frustrated. I might be missing out on something spectacular.

"Great." Brian sighs, rolling his neck and shoulders. "Stay here. I'm going to..."

"Brian..." I snatch his arm. "... don't leave me."

"Christ! He's not gonna hurt you. He's alone and he's in my bedroom. I need to catch him before he leaves..."

Man, did that sound strange. Vic's dead. We buried him almost 3yrs ago.

"What do you mean 'catch' him?" I grip Brian's arm tighter. He pulls away, my hands clutch his fingers. "He doesn't linger?"

"No." Brian gives me this look of desperation. "Can we discuss this later?"

I let him go. He moves swiftly into the bedroom. I can see the outline of his shape in the foggy glass partitions. He stops suddenly. I can hear something different now. Like fingers on a balloon skin, that warbly, screechy sound. I use both of my hands to cover my eyes, as if that will put an end to this crazy night. Then I realize what a wuss I'm being, letting Brian deal with this all on his own.

"Brian!" I rush into the bedroom. Brian's feet are planted stiff, he's unmoving. Nor is he talking to me. "Brian!? Say something."

"Something." He seems transfixed, mesmerized in whatever Vic's doing right now.

"Wha-?"

"He's in my closet." Brian talks as if he can't believe what he's seeing.

I'm upset I can't see anything, but I can hear everything. "Wha-? Why?" The hangers sound as they slide across the wooden poles.

"I dunno. Maybe he has nothing to wear, wherever he is." Brian looks as if he wants to sit down, wait this out.

"Is he...?"

"Wait! Ssssshhhh..." Brian puts up a hand to "shoosh" me.

I'm not amused. "I CAN'T see him, Brian!"

"I know!! You told me already. He's..." Brian walks away from me, heading toward the bathroom. "Vic! Don't..." Brian pleads as a door slams. "... leave..." His voice sounds disappointed, let down. Like the little boy whose father promises to take him to his favorite place, but then never shows up to go.

I quickly trace Brian's steps, meeting him in front of the shower. "Where does the door lead?"

"Nowhere. It's my extra linens and towels closet."

"But I thought you said Vic can leave through doors? That he opens and shuts them?"

"Yeah, but I never said they were all FRONT doors... or doors that make any sense."

"Auuuughhhh!" I slap my hands over my eyes, sliding them over my ears. I storm out, moving back into the bedroom.

"What's wrong with you?" Brian crosses his arms in a bit of anger.

"Why?! Why couldn't I SEE him?! I could hear it all, but... see nothing!" I begin to pace in front of the bed.

Brian shrugs, rubbing at his jaw. "I! Don't! Know! Why is he here with me... and not with you?!"

"Why are you yelling?"

"Because YOU are!"

I plop own on the mattress. "Fuck! I'm sorry... sorry... I'm sorry..."

Brian moved to sit on a section of furniture he wanted to rest on before. He's sitting in front of me. "Will you stop apologizing."

"I know. Habit." I flop backward, arms raised over my head. This is all too much to take in one night. I can see why Brian's been so frazzled. "I'm sor-..."

"Michael..."

"Alright. Okay." I lift up again. "Now that I know how bad these moments can be... please..." I put my palms together in prayer. "... I'm begging you, tell me what you DO know. And don't hold back. I want the whole truth. Whatever you're feeling about it, too. I don't care how loony it sounds. I want to know it all."

"No holds barred?" Brian quirks up one lone eyebrow.

"No stone left unturned."

"No matter how it makes YOU feel?"

"Doesn't matter what I feel, Brian. It's for Vic. For you... for me... for us. We have to figure this out."

"Ahhhh... the time frame." Brian nods his head, reminded of my vacation in one week.

"Brian..."

"I have to know... no, I need to know you'll let me be as honest as I can, with you. That you won't let it change things between us." There's such a frightened look to his eyes that I have to agree or hate myself for letting him down.

"Jesus, Brian, what...?"

"Yesterday, in the restaurant... I told you I didn't want to lose you. And I meant it."

"I know you did. I don't want anything to change our relationship, either."

"But what if it did."

"Change how?"

"Our friendship... going bad. Maybe worse."

"Worse than a few years ago?" I see Brian look away, avert his head. He can't even talk about it in hindsight. I'm ashamed, too. "You're in my life always. You don't have to be there everyday. I know that's wishful thinking, but... I guess I could handle..." I go silent. What am I trying to promise? A permanent visitation schedule with my best friend?

Brian snickers, rolling his eyes. "Exactly my problem, too. If it does change... where do we draw the line?"

"I can't ever... NOT see you." That will never be an option.

Brian pushes off the low cabinets and walks over to the bed. He sits down next to me, but with a little distance. "But we'd agree to what? Every other day? Every two or three days? Only Tuesdays and Thursdays... with a side of Sundays? How do we do that... and not monopolize time from everything else in our lives? And on the day we reschedule... The Schedule... what happens if we decide to stop altogether? We let weeks pass us by... then drift apart..."

"Stop." I can't even bear hearing it said in a hypothetical setting. I try to cover Brian's mouth, but he keeps swatting me away.

"Michael..."

"Shut up." I plan on covering my ears again, but Brian grabs for both my hands.

"Mikey..." Brian turns his head in such a way that I choke on a dry sob.

"Shut. The Fuck. Up."

He shakes our hands between us on the bed. "If our last fight taught me anything it's that no matter how grim, it's a reality we have to face. You think I haven't thought about that day?"

"What day?"

"The day when you wake up and realize you won't need or want me at all."

"No." I shake my head.

"Yes..." Brian's insistent it will happen. It's inevitable.

"NO!" I snatch one hand back. It's only to cover my eyes.

"Yes!"

"Never happens." I put down my hand, raise my head high. "Won't ever." Now I'm more adamant than ever.

"Why?" Brian's a little intrigued by my conviction.

"I won't let it. You mean too much to me." I inch closer to Brian, bring his hand, with both of mine clasped around it's shape, into my lap. "I don't even stop thinking about you after we fight." I say it softly, intimately between us. I need him to know this, for some reason.

Brian chuckles, placing his other hand over mine. "I don't, either."

Odd that we have this in common. We sound like a married couple.

"In fact, I think about you more." I've never told him this and it's actually quite freeing. I adore the smile he's giving me. It's like he's hearing something he's dreamed of for years.

"Isn't that weird? So do I." Brian scratches at his cheek. His stubble has darkened over the hours spent together.

I bite my top lip. "I hate when we fight." I mean this, with my whole heart.

Brian scoots near to me, almost on top of my lap. "I hate myself more when we do."

"Why?"

"I know I'm to blame."

"Don't." I reach up, rubbing the back of my hand down his cheek. "I take partial credit."

"I shoulder blame better."

"Because your shoulders are broader?" I use both hands to smooth over those joints, then down his biceps and resting on his forearms.

"No... I was born and raised for Hell."

"Just 'cause Joan and Jack said so?"

"No." Brian shook his head, tightening his lips. "I've known so all my life."

"I'm as culpable as you. You won't be lonely in that handbasket address to Hell."

Brian blinks a little fast, bringing up his hand to rub under my chin, lifting my head up. "Why do you insist on always doing that?"

"What?"

"You stick up for me when no one else will. Plus... you always want to come along for a ride."

"No one deserves to be left alone. Even Brian Kinney." I softly punch his biceps. "You'd do the same for me."

"Would I?" Brian asks honestly.

I furrow my brow in curiosity. "When have you not?"

"Plenty of times."

"You have my back when it counts. And I'm no saint, either."

"Do you think you failed me?" Brian can see my eyes drift, he dips his head to catch my eyes again. "Because if you do... you're wrong... and I'm sorry if I gave you that impression."

"I know I have."

"When?"

"If I tell you, it will no longer be my secret."

"We have NO secrets, remember?"

"We don't?" I don't recall agreeing with THAT comment.

Brian grins broadly. "We've been nothing but honest since the day we met, right?"

"Brian Kinney... are you being serious or teasing me?" I can never tell the difference sometimes.

"If it's not true, then lets have it out right now. Tell me one thing... one honest thing about you, you've never told me..."

That's it. Now I know I'm definitely going to Hell with Brian.

"Does it have to be just one?" I give a wane smile, doubtful I can narrow the field down, this late in the game.

 **~*~TBC...**


	4. Chapter 4

**Michael's POV** **:** ( _con't_ )

  
"Are there more than five?" Brian squeezes his eyes shut, prepared for the worst.

I can't even sprout ONE, much less the entire gamut of them. "You go first." I push at his chest, encouraging him to more open and vulnerable. Just how I feel right about now.

"Michael ... quit stalling." He nabs that hand and places it on his thigh

"I'm not." I was, but it was too much, too soon. I had to do something. "You've obviously been thinking about this more than I have."

"That's true." Brian stands, holding out his hand for me to take. "Come with me."

"Where are we going?" I wrinkle my brow in worry. This could be dangerous and unexpected.

"Bathroom." Oh, yeah... right. I forgot the other reason I was here. "Vic was in there." He drags me behind him. "Let's see what latest clue he left."

I sidle up to Brian's back. "Does he do that all the time?"

"What? Leave clues?"

I nod my head slowly, taking a preliminary peek around the room. "If he's not talking to you, you know he's not here for shits-n-giggles... so he'll always try to leave some message for you." I shrug, simply because this is not something anyone, much less me... can comprehend coherently. "I'm starting to think you're right. He's here, with you, for a reason."

Brian's head swivels quickly to catch my eyes. He's eager to hear my theory. "Which would be?"

All I've got is a blank stare with my reassuring smile. "No idea." I wish I had something better to tell him.

"That's my problem, too."

We walk around the bathroom, not finding one misplaced item or any special notes left behind. Then Brian notices something smeared on the mirror.

"Turn the shower on." He points toward the faucets on the wall behind the cubicle.

I shake my head to strongly disagree. "Not really a time to worry about body odor, Brian."

Brian softly chuckles, shaking his own head. "I'm not. Make the water as hot as you can. We'll close the door, the steam will do the rest of the work." He points to the mirror so I can see that something has been written on the reflective surface.

Uuuuugh... creepy. Even more proof that someone was here.

That's exactly what we do. I stand just outside the bathroom, waiting for Brian's next move. He wanders to the night stand, opens a drawer. He pulls out a small notebook, then picks up the pen nearby.

"Did you start a dream journal?" I tease him to keep the atmosphere lighthearted.

"No. I've been taking notes, jotting these things down." He turns toward me, opening the notebook to the half-filled page and jots down a few words in the empty space. "Building my own theories and hypothesizing, to some degree. Enough to keep my sanity intact." He sits down on the bed and places the book on his knee to continue writing diligently.

"To reach what conclusion?" I am curious. Brian has already written on quite a few pages, previously.

"I'm here to protect you."

I push off from the wall of his closets, standing in front of him. "Pardon?"

"You heard me." He smiled at me before he went back to write more.

"From what?"

"That's not exactly been clear to me, for awhile. But..."

"But... what?" I look at the top of Brian's bowed head.

"I think I'm supposed to be your 'superhero'." He rambles it off as if he just "blessed" me for sneezing.

I have to take a seat on the mattress, but further down from Brian. I face him, squarely. "Okaaaay... now you've really lost me."

"I'm fairly certain Vic is attempting to warn me about some type of tragedy that might... strike..."

I don't even allow Brian a moment to finish. "ME!?" Couldn't he have told me this earlier, not now? Or is he even telling me now? I think I'm nagging him to death about this Vic "problem".

"Yes." He sighs, disrupted in scribbling. His shoulders sag more as he writes.

"A tragedy? Like death?"

"Again... not really sure." He closes the notebook, leaving the pen in the spine to keep his page.

"Why me? Why now?"

"Vic's your uncle. He's got strong ties to you. I'd figure you'd be the most connected to him. The most logical choice for contact."

"Like my guardian angel or something like that?" At Brian's nod, I persist. "So you're supposed to save me... plain and simple?"

"Since Vic won't go into details... 'yes', would be my answer." He feels a little foolish. He can't even look at me, simply staring straight ahead at his closet door. "I know this sounds irrational and crazy, but..." He pauses, only because I'm looking at him as if he's just set himself on fire. "Why do you look doubtful?"

"I don't doubt you... I doubt the so-called 'theory'. And... this is my pensive, thinking face." I realize he's projecting his own doubts onto me. "I've trusted you with my life all these years. You've never stopped trying to save me by some method of your madness."

"Sure... but now it's no longer my right alone."

He must mean Ben... my husband. "Ben is..."

"The one who should be protecting you, not me." Brian stands in a fit of silent rage, walking off.

"Vic didn't know Ben that well. It would seem even stranger for him to be with Ben." But suddenly I'm overcome with this reaction to the way he's putting himself down in accordance with the vision of Vic. Like he's not even good enough for a heavenly visitation. "And why not YOU?"

"Because..." Brian stops before he finishes. His mind reorganizes thoughts and what he was about to say. "... he's your husband. Your lover and your partner. He has more of a right to you, than I have. He's your life now, not me." He turns his back to me, wandering off to the second doorway, into the dining room

That's not even close to what Brian wanted to say. I can sense it.

I look down to the floor and see the steam coming out from under the closed door. "Things should be visible." I jump off the bed and run to the door. I open the paneling and step in, Brian's right behind me.

Both of our eyes are glued to the mirror.

There's a foggy outline of us in the reflection. We both read the two little words. I can even hear Brian mutter them near my ear, letting out a puff of breath. He's beyond frustrated. I don't blame him.

All that was written was... **TELL HIM**...

Hands on hips, Brian draws backward, one or two inches. "Christ!"

I swivel, leaning my backside on the sink ledge. Steam is billowing around us. We left the door ajar, the intense heat is exiting the bathroom.

Brian averts his head and turns to enter the shower. He goes in to shut off the water.

I know Brian is beyond angry. He's almost livid. And I'm not helping much, either. I feel like I'm almost in the way. " _ **Tell him?**_ Well, Jesus... that could be anything..." I shuffle across the floor, grabbing the corner of the shower cubicle. "... could mean anything..."

Brian sighs, looking up as he stands in the doorway of the stall. He pauses, his eyes widening like saucers. "Holy... fuck me...!!"

"What?" I glance IN the shower itself. There's nothing. What's he all excited about?

Brian gestures toward the shower's glass wall. The one facing the bathroom sink.

"There's more." He can't read what's written because it's backwards.

I move to look directly at the wall, taking a huge gulp. I cannot believe what I'm reading.

"What does it...?" Brian didn't follow me. He expects me to recite the words to him. He's not pleased by my reaction.

"It says... **BOTH OF YOU**..."

Our gazes catch for longer than a minute.

"Well... I am officially freaked the fuck out..." I put a hand to my forehead, shaking it slowly. I have to close my eyes and process this as best I can. I just received a private message from the "other side" and... it went public before I was prepared. How do you bounce back from something that awkward?

Brian closes his eyes, too. "He knew you were here."

"Then why didn't he...?" I'm just being stupid... selfish. I'm attempting to fill the air with words that I'm not afraid to say over the ones I am frightened to death of revealing.

"Talk to you, specifically?"

"No... just let me see him..." I cover my eyes with my hands. I wasn't sure how I'd react. I wasn't expecting the quick well of tears in my eyes. "... once..."

"Michael ..." Brian walks over to me. His hands outstretch to grasp my biceps. He soothes up and down in a comforting manner.

"I have so much to tell him, Brian." I hold onto Brian as tight as I can.

"I know." He dips his head near mine, enclosing me to his side, under his arm.

"... about my life... Ben... Hunter... Jenny... get a bit of Ma in there without him knowing..."

He kisses my temple. "Maybe he already knows." He smoothes one hand down my arm in a comfort rhythm. I think it was because I started shaking... or shivering. Which is weird, since there's nothing but hot steam around us. "Maybe... you didn't leave him wondering anything, when he passed."

"Like, uh... what's that? 'unfinished business'?" I lift my head off Brian's shoulder, sniffling. I teared up, but didn't cry. I still feel the moisture on my face, but it's lost with the sweat on my skin.

"Yeah... probably..."

The words smudged on the glass and mirror are fading. It's no longer humid in the bathroom. All the steam is filtering through the loft. Both our faces are covered in a slight sheen of perspiration.

Brian moves away to reach for a small hand towel. He hands me it first. "I pretty much came to this conclusion... who did Vic love most? More than his own life?"

"Lots of people, Brian." I wipe slowly at my face, then under my neck and around my nape. I toss Brian the towel.

"Think harder." He wipes his hands, then up his forearms and biceps. He tackles his face last once he's spoken his peace.

"I can't... and I don't want to." I stomp my foot childishly, crossing my arms.

"It's you, Michael." Brian said the words as he dropped the towel and folded it to put on the towel rack.

"And you, too... and Ma..."

Brian lifts one eyebrow in wonderment and glee. "Can you picture your mother handling something like this? At all?"

"No. Not likely." I snicker. It is kind of hilarious to think about.

"So that leaves..." Brian rolls his hand to gesture toward me.

"Me..." I oblige his answer, but then I return the gesture to him. "... and you."

"Michael... stop..." Brian sounds like he's tired of hearing me talk about how much he was loved by Vic. Vic who is dead and passed. Vic who is gone and moved on without Brian to look over him. Vic who is no longer here for Brian to love in return.

I think I know why Brian is so utterly disturbed by all this. He can't even fathom Vic could be here... simply for HIM. It has to only be for me... his "son".

I walk over to Brian, reaching up to cup his cheek. A lone sweat droplet fell down along his sideburn. I trace it upward, back into his hairline. "You were like a 'son' to him. He loved you, as much as he loved me." I swipe under Brian's chin, lifting his head up to be proud of what he DID get when Vic was alive. "He still does." I brush my hand down to Brian's chest, only a simple touch, nothing more. "Maybe there's some unfinished business between you two. Maybe he's trying to help you... you know, to save yourself."

"From what?" I couldn't give Brian the answers he searched for. "And therein lies the big, nasty ball of confusion." He gave me a sad smile as his shoulders hunched.

My eyes flick over Brian's shoulder to the shower wall. I can tell he's contemplating the first "note" over my shoulder, fading on the mirror.

"What do we do now?" I ask quietly as I lower my hand. I realized too late that touching Brian was a serious no-no. I really needed supervision.

"Is there something you've been keeping to yourself? Something important you need to tell me?" Brian doesn't look at me at all. He simply asks as if he were asking me an ordinary question.

Holy Jesus!! Has it come down to this?

What will happen if I say "no"? Will Brian be satisfied with that response?

And if I actually took Vic's advice and said "yes"... what DO I say? How do I formulate the words to let Brian know what I've been feeling all these years? Will it change a thing?

Will it cause me to love Ben less and no longer want my marriage... my kids and our home together?

And if I did say "yes" and tell everything... am I guaranteed Brian feels the same? If he does, what does he want from me... with me? Will he change for me?

Shit... does he even want to take Ben's place... or does he only want me... my body... nothing more but my complete heart?

Hell... does he even want me at all anymore? Have I chased him away... finally?

"Michael, what...?" Brian reaches out with both hands to grab the sides of my neck, to bring me close.

I can't have that. I can't be here and think clearly.

I'm too choked to answer. At least, for now. So I bolt...

"Michael, don't...!" Brian's hand flashes out to grasp my arm, but I'm gone before he can grip me tight.

I beat a hasty retreat from the bathroom.

I need to go home. I need to climb into bed and hold my husband to my heart and never let him go.

I need time to think. I feel rushed, even though it's twenty years past.

I find my shoes, sliding my socked feet into them. I hold onto the counter ledge.

"Where are you going?" Brian has quietly walked up behind me. I can feel his heat... or is that still the steam roaming about?

"Home." My voice sounds peculiar and strained. "Where I should have been hours ago."

They way I spoke sounded like I blamed Brian for me being here. I know I was at fault, too.

"I didn't force you to stay." He putters around at the dining room table, then draws around the breakfast counter. "You always have a choice. Even to leave..."

"... and never come back..." It's not a question as much as it's a plead for him to say something. To say something other than nothing and to look at me as if he wants me in his bed and by his side for always. Or an out for him to tell me to leave and go to Hell with my fucking idealistic thoughts on gay couples and being monogamous. Being fakes and frauds to our own selves while mimicking the very thing we said we hated about straight people.

I can't take it if he shuns me again. I'll probably die. It'll be slow, but my death will be of natural causes and when they open me on the table they'll find the exact crack in my heart that started its breaking.

I can't believe I even said that. I look up as Brian turns to head to the fridge for a beer.

"GOD DAMN YOU!!" I feel like throwing something. Instead, it's just my fists flailing through the air then pounding at my sides.

Brian swivels, leaning back on the fridge door. "What the fuck, Michael?!"

I guess I did scare him. "You think I enjoy this? The way you can 'control' me? Make me feel like I actually HAVE these so-called 'choices' to make?"

"You do. And I've never tried to control you."

That IS true. It's more of a stealthy-control, which is tougher to rid yourself of. Believe me, I've tried a million times. It's like super glue.

"You don't?"

"Not the way you make it sound."

"You fuckin' asshole!" I roughly pick up my jacket and backpack. "You give me just enough to make me wonder." I set my backpack on the stool seat. "To feel something again." I put my jacket on. "Then you play with me... jerking me in all directions... " I let my hands fly in the air to show how "jerky" he is with me. I slide the backpack straps over my shoulders. "And when you don't get what you want, you attack me. Make me feel responsible and guilty."

"Michael ..." Brian's floored by what I just blurted out and I'm immediately sorry I'm using this time... when I should be cherishing these moments with Brian... to scream at him for all the years he tortured me and my fragile heart.

"I know you'd hate to hear this, but I'm not caring too much right now." I actually do, more than Brian knows. But I'm on a roll and I can't seem to stop. "You're more like Ben than you know..."

THAT was certainly the wrong way to bring Ben back up in the conversation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
 _RE : NOTE TO SELF_  
 _Self,_

 _Never do THAT again...  
Love,  
ME..._  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I can tell I've pushed enough of Brian's buttons to get him started. I should know better. I'm not long for this moment. He'll have better come backs than I do or he'll say something to hurt me. "I could say the same for you. But you have the 'husband'... and the 'forever' thing to hold over my head..."

"FINE!!" I bark in a weak voice, it breaks. "I've helped you out all I can with the restaurant campaign. Good Luck." I should leave... like now, but... I don't. Silly, stupid... foolish me. "I think this... thing with Vic is beyond explicable... if you're not willing to give an inch in return." I'm halfway to the door, when I turn back around. "In five days time, by next weekend... I'll be on my honeymoon. If I don't see or hear from you before then, I'll assume the "Bon Voyage" is heartfelt." I slide open the metal door. I'm about ready to exit when I hear Brian clear his throat, the soft patter of bare feet on tile and these words...

"Don't go." I can actually barely see him at the edge of the kitchen. His bare toes are half on/ half off the tile and hardwood.

"Brian..." I lean weakly on the trim of the heavy door panel.

He finds enough courage... some that I wish I had right now... and he takes two more steps forward. "... and not just this loft, but this... fraud of a honeymoon, too..."

I didn't even close the door when I left.

~*~

I left the loft with all intents and purposes of not returning. At least within 24hrs. I could never stay away for too long. I did need time to think... to chill. Weigh my pros and cons. If I hadn't walked out, I would have told Brian everything and then where would I be?

Probably naked... and having the best sex of my life... but then what happens in the fall out?

I'd have to explain myself to Ben. One thing I do know is that if I did stray, I'd be honest with Ben. Like I was with David. But I'd hope Ben would respect me the same.

We ARE men. We all know how we can get. Especially when we feel cornered by monotony and grab the nearest, available body. We should be able to understand when a lover seeks fulfillment elsewhere. Not saying the betrayal won't hurt, but if the love is worth the sacrifices of forgiving, then it's better to save your relationship.

My problem is... I don't know which one to save first, in case anything does happen. I don't want to have to choose, but I know it's a possibility. I know now, more than ever, something will change between Brian and I. I'm not sure what exactly. It's weird, though... I feel the same way with Ben, as well.

All I am certain of is... I can't leave completely. So... I'm sitting in my car... pondering. I haven't even bothered to take out my keys and start the ignition. For fear if I idle, I'll just convince myself to put the car in gear and drive away.

Ben is at home. Most likely, in bed, asleep. I can only imagine what will occur once I get home, myself. Crawling into bed, to be with my husband. Snuggling close to ward off the mild chills in the air. I'll let him hold me close as he falls back to sleep, though it might not be what I want. It's better than the alternative... the thought of being alone or lonely. I'm grateful to have an adoring man like Ben to love me.

When I think on that point, I often wander into thinking about Brian. I promised to help him. I have to admit I was hoping Vic would show, but disappointed I can't fully realize him. Well... like Brian can.

I'm a little ticked off with myself. I thought these "visions" of Vic were Brian's way of reaching for scraps to drag me back into his life. I thought his exhaustion and confusion was simply a ploy to win with some sympathy. But now that I know, first hand, what Brian's had to deal with... I'm feeling guilty for doubting him.

More than anything, I'm upset with myself because I ran out on Brian when he needed me most. When he actually requested exactly what he wanted of me... and I freaked and bailed. Granted all that we'd been discussing and the questions he was asking me were all too real, but they weren't any different than what we've approached before. I guess these days we know how much of a risk we're willing to take and what exactly we DO want out of one another. I thought I was over that childish stage of running away from my feelings. And I wasn't really much of a good friend to Brian, a few minutes ago.

I should patch things up, before I go. I can't leave things unsaid between Brian and I. Him thinking I hold any hatred or grudges toward him.

It's too soon for me to head back into the loft. I should wait a bit longer.

I find my cell phone and dial home. After three rings, the answer machine picks up. I leave a small reply, informing Ben of where I am and that I might be a little while.

As I sit there, wondering what to do next, I get this bright idea to check the messages at home. I rarely do this, but it feels like it will eat up some time uselessly. I'm trying to fill my frantic mind with every day life nonsense.

There's a couple of hang-ups, some automated telemarketers, two calls for me about orders for Red Cape, Em telling me about some film fest on TV and then there were a few for Ben. They basically reiterated what I already knew. Ben's gym buddies canceling and then their call backs to apologize. They were attempting to reschedule with him, make amends. They even recommended Ben bring his adorable workout partner... which freaked me out, because I've never met these particular men from Ben's new gym. I had no idea who they meant.

Then came a message from a person I've heard of, but never seen the actual face of.

 _ **"Uhm... hello, Ben?"**_ The throat swallowed nervously, I felt bad for him... sounded scared to calling our house. _**"It's me... I, uh... took a chance you really meant what you said when you gave me your number after this week's meeting. I... well, I had another catfight with Palmer. Uhm... you were right..."**_ He laughed, then cleared his throat. He had a really nice laugh, too. I bet he smiled great, as well. Perfectly straight, pristinely white teeth and a protruding Adam's apple that begged to be licked or munched. Yeah... I can tell a lot just by a man's voice. Brian has a great phone voice. I could listen to him all night. Brian... not this guy. _**"He... well, how do I put this eloquently? The motherfucker left me stranded... an' since I'm still kinda new in town..."**_

Okay... I didn't listen to the rest of the message. It's not for me. I DID know this guy. Neil something... Graft.. or Craft... I can't recall right now. He's a newly diagnosed HIV-Poz and he's young. Well, not young-young, but younger than me. He's about 27 or... 28 yrs old. He's been in a very long relationship... with his college sweetheart, Palmer. Don't even ask me what THAT guy's name is.

I started to wonder if Ben had become smitten with Neil, because when Ben placed this young man in any conversation his voice sounded a lot like when he used to talk about me, when we first met.

I don't know this Neil guy's type and I don't instantly hate him because of that common connection he has with Ben. It's only that, from my point of view, some HIV-Poz gay men might be intentionally single or have this "single-minded" mentality. They must crave touch and when they don't have it at their beck and call like they want... like non-HIV gay men... they search for those who will understand what they're going through to be alone with.

I often thought that if two HIV-Poz gay men met one another... had become attracted... do they feel this urgency to be together or do they negate ALL ideas of sex to remain healthy? Not to get more worse than they already are? And would it matter if either man had a significant other?

This is the stuff I've always wanted to ask Ben, but he gets defensive when I ask or am remotely curious to projecting hypothetical situations. I'm not trying to stereotype. I'm not even saying Ben would do something like that. I'm also not giving Ben an "easy out" to cheat.

I suppose what I am saying is... you, truthfully, never know those you love. People are capable of anything, given the situations they are put in. Especially when sexual chemistry is involved.

At least with Brian, I know what to expect and can avoid accordingly. Doesn't stop the pain or heartache, though.

I'm a good example. Look at me. I've been in love with my best friend for twenty years. And when he asks me to be honest about my feelings, I run away. Because I know if I did, I won't be able to leave his side. He probably won't let me leave, either. Not once he knows the truth.

What is my truth?

My "truth" is... I love Brian. Have for a long time. I pushed those emotions back because I found someone who could give me what I wanted. He loves me in return.

My other truth, right this minute, is... I'm not sure I have given Brian a fair chance, before I ran straight into Ben's arms. I've told Brian "no" in my head a thousand times, never asking him point blank.

Was that mean or decent of me? Better to break my heart now, then later... huh?

And it's come to my attention that no one is safe. No person is THAT perfect or THAT good. Anyone could do to me... what I'm thinking about doing to Ben. What Brian does every single day of his life. Even Ben is capable. I barely know his gym buddies or the men he befriended in the HIV support group meetings.

Funny thing is... there are some moments when I want, desperately, to be the bad guy with no reason to back my actions up and no need to give flimsy excuses. Rock the boat simply because I can. I've been behaving much, much too long to not finally want to take... what I want... no pardon me, WHAT I'VE WANTED... when I want it and not a second less.

I fool around with some buttons on my cell phone, wasting time. I begin to clear out certain areas of the tiny memory chip inside. Old dialed calls, calls I missed, text messages and voicemails I haven't deleted... that sort of thing. I switch my cell phone to go directly to voicemails, placing it in one of the side pockets of my back pack. I zip up the back pack, intending to leave it on the floor on the passenger side.

Then as I'm just about to place my hand on the door knob, prepared to open and exit the car... yeah, I'm going back up to talk to Brian... I hear the ringtone that signals my voicemail is active.

I let it play through, giving the person enough time to leave me a message. I look at my watch.

Who'd be calling me at this hour?

Shit! Could be Brian!!

I dig around for my cell phone and push buttons to find my message. I inhale deeply as I press down on the "OK" pad, placing the speaker to my ear. I don't recognize the number.

 _ **"... hey, babe..."**_ Ben takes a breath, like an annoyed sigh. Like he knows Brian is preventing me from leaving the loft. _**"... I guess you're not taking calls. I tried home and got the answering machine. You're either... asleep or still with... Brian..."**_ He says the name with a bit of aggravation. As if I've been out with Brian every single night of the week. _**"... hope he's alright. Anyway, if you ARE home, you probably know I'm not there..."**_ There's a noise of some sort. A hush of voices. _**"... I, uh... something came up with one of my students."**_ He cleared his throat, possibly wishing me to believe him. _**"... hopefully I'll be home in a little while... see you soon..."**_

It did sound like Ben hanging up, but I could hear muffled voices.

 _**"... Neil! give it!... come on!... stop playing!..."** _

_**"... awwww... fulfilling your student/professor fantasy, are we... how cute... I sure do need a good spankin', Teach!... why don't you come an' get me... come back to the bed-... Hey!..."** _

Then there was no more. Nothing.

I stare at the phone as if it just spit in my face.

Wow...

I had this idea... if my marriage ended in some manner... it would sound a little more noisy... chaotic...

Instead, there's only this deep well of ache... and it's choking me... and deafening silence...

I quickly exit the car, slamming my driver door. I bend at my waist, grabbing my knees. The cool air feels good and it fills my lungs... all too sharply. Tears pool my eyes and as I gradually raise my torso upward... I can see Brian at the upper row of windows.

Has he been looking down at me all this time?

I try to breathe correctly, using my jacket cuffs to wipe at my eyes. I swipe the moisture off on my jeans. I glance up again as Brian backs away from the window and he starts walking around the loft, turning on every single light again.

I take that subtlety as my "hint" to come up. I'm more than welcome.

I don't think it's a good thing to be out here, in front of Brian's loft, and not say a proper goodbye.

~*~

I planned on knocking once I reached the door, but I also imagined that the door might be wide open for me.

Why do I even know that? Why does it make me smile broader to feel that he'd be that forgiving of me after everything I've said to him?

I opt for the stairs, not the elevator. I'm buying time. For me and Brian.

When I reach the top, I can see inside the loft. I even hear music, lulling the air and distracting the silence where words can't fill awkward space.

I tuck my hands into my front pockets, walking toward the threshold.

Brian comes out of the well-lit bedroom. He's changed into his tank-t. He knows I like him wearing those. How it makes his arms look larger than they actually are. Strange how they don't really appear all that huge, but yet the strength in them leaves me constantly breathless. His jeans are even riding a bit lower... or were they always like that? His hair is wet, not spiked about his head. But it is cupping the sides of his neck.

I lick my lips, moving my hands from my front pockets to my back ones. I know this strains my jeans, pulling tighter. Two can play at this game.

There's a small hand towel in Brian's hands. He's drying them, as if he'd taken a quick shower while I've been away. I can almost imagine he's completely naked underneath his jeans. He saunters down the two steps, coming toward me.

I venture over the threshold, sliding the door behind me. I don't lock it. I'm still not assured I'm allowed entrance, but Brian will always give me a fair shake. Always.

I smile, my face still a little flushed from my hurried sobs. But it looks like it's from the cold, so I'm covered.

Did he see me wipe my eyes, though?

"Hi..." I manage to warble out in a small, soft tone.

He swallows, pausing in the middle of the hardwood flooring. I watch the lump of his throat move up and down. It's never been sexier than right now. Is Brian nervous? As he dries his hands, his muscles bunch and stretch.

How wet did he get? They should be dry by now.

"Wha-?" He blinks a few times, throwing the towel over one shoulder. He crosses his arms, causing more sexiness to ensue. He's got that "come hither/fuck off" look to his eyes. "Did you forget something?" One eyebrow goes up in defiance. He's not going to make this easy for me.

I take a deep breath and bite my bottom lip.

I AM IN SUCH... DEEP TROUBLE...

I cross my own arms, plant my feet apart. "Are you scared Ben can't protect me like you can?"

"He's never seen you quite like I do." Brian's not boastful, just serious. "And he never will."

"Why do you think so?"

"Because he'll never have your whole heart."

"Because... why...?" I choke out, already knowing the words Brian will say.

"Because I do." He's drawing closer. I can feel his warmth.

"Do you?" I lift both by eyebrows in curiosity. I like it when it sounds as if he's taken possession of me. I do, every once and awhile, feel like "his".

"Yes." He nods his head once.

"How?" I quirk my head to the side, as if I hear noises in the distance.

"How do I have your heart?" Brian takes the last few steps to me as tiny as his long legs can do.

"How do you know it's a fact?" I roll my hand in the air, wishing for an explanation.

"Because..." Brian reaches out with one hand for me. "... you have mine..."

I clutch at the hand, but I don't move. "Don't..." I close my eyes and beg him. He's tugging me, little by little.

He stops, only because he can see I'm getting slightly emotional or already there. "When's a good time?" He brings his other hand to cup the top, brushing over my wrist.

I reopen my lids, directly trapped in Brian's rich hazel gaze. "Five years ago."

"Liar." He's pulling at my jacket's cuff. He wants me to undress. To stay awhile, possibly all night. "You never stopped." He helps me off with my jacket, always keeping my hand within his grip.

"Could be true... but I'll never tell." I throw my jacket over the couch. It's amazing to me the power of touch or maybe I've learned the power of Brian's touch and I've been spoiled. All I know is... it's killing me to be dressed right now.

"You've always been ready..." He brings up our hands to trace his index finger over my face. "... that's been your whole problem. " He sees dried tears on my face. He pets my skin lovingly.

"A little full of yourself, huh?" I wouldn't want Brian any other way.

He reaches my lips, gliding over the outline of skin. "You've known..." He dips his head close, noses touching. "... even before I did..."

I shake my head to disagree. "I didn't know anything except how I felt." He smells incredible... I take in a deep breath, then break away our hands to cup his biceps and sooth downward to his elbows. His skin feels weird, like goosebumps. He's a little chilled, but he's warming up as he stands next to me. "... and it was unlike any feeling I'd ever experienced..."

He raises his arms to encircle and drape around my neck. He bends lower to my ear, sliding our cheeks together. "... and I've never felt that way about anything... nor anybody..." He places the gentlest kiss to my nape. "... I swear to you..."

If those are the kinds of actions Brian Kinney makes with his vows... jesus, that ceremony will need a parental advisory label.

My hands flow back to wrap about his waist. Then I slide upward, hands splayed over his back. "Soooo... what do we do now?" I find the dip in his spine, crawling under the tank-t fabric. Brian releases a long exhale in my ear, over my neck, which filtered down my shirt.

We're kind of swaying to whatever's on the stereo. It's very hypnotic and mood altering.

"This is nice..." He nudges my head, lips skimming my ear. He's tucking his face in my neck, fingers locked in the strands of my hair. "Stay... for a few hours more. It'll be morning in a little while. You can decide whether you want to go home or directly to work."

He hasn't even said WHAT we'd be doing, which is maddening. Not that you can't tell with the way we can't keep our hands off one another or stop our bodies from coming closer still.

"Ben will be pissed." I can't believe how I blurted that out and possibly ruined the moment. But I can feel Brian deeply chuckling from his belly.

See... he's never had a real problem with Ben. He thinks Ben can't even compete with him over me. I tend to agree, especially right now.

For the first time, Brian isn't the asshole jerk in this scenario.

"Ben doesn't exist here." He manages to fit a hand between our bodies, laying his palm flat to my chest. "Let him get angry." He pulls back a tiny bit, his jaw resting on my temple. He finds my hand and places it on his left upper chest. He's managed to make us dance in some kind of formation. "It's not as if he didn't know something like this would happen." His right hand wanders down to splay over my back, mid-spine. Then the arm moves up and rests along the curve, the fingers caught on my neck, tickling my hairline.

I draw backward, Brian's hand cupping the back of my head. "What IS happening?"

"Whatever you want?" Brian's breath is an inch from my mouth.

"Brian..." I lean my forehead on his chin, sinking deeper than I should.

"I'm serious." He smiles, goes flush. His heart beats rapidly under me.

"I know." I tighten my arms about his hips. "I'm glad, but... I'm not sure I can do this..." I can't even say what we're doing, but I can't leave just yet.

Brian is right, though. This moment is nice... kind of romantic and sensual.

"Do what?" Brian furrows his brow in confusion.

Okay... my turn to swallow hard. "... sex with you... an' me..."

Have I guessed wrong... like I always feared?

"Who said anything about sex?" Brian sounded genuinely exasperated, rolling his eyes.

BASTARD! I had no idea Brian would tease me like that. I punch him in the kidneys.

I was about to play at walking away on a pouty huff. Good riddance, Mr. Kinney!

Brian drags me back inside his arms. He's laughing outright, not at me, but it grates on my nerves just the same if he was.

I grab at Brian's cotton tank-t, bunching the material in my fists... and I swing him around to plaster him to the side of the pole... you know... if poles had sides...

"Whoa! Michael... I... !"

I'm not even paying attention to him or listening. I'm too busy shutting him up with my lips on his...

  
 **~*~TBC...**


	5. Chapter 5

**Michael's POV** : ( _con't_ )

  
I always thought if I behaved, followed the rules to the letter and was the "good" little man Ma teased me about being I'd find a certain happiness. I'd find it eventually down the road. Poetic to discover that the happiness I've been in search of actually depended on me doing the exact opposite of what I normally do.

This idea of mine is nutty, completely silly. I'm still thinking about going to the airport with Ben. It's not that I want to play my husband for a fool or that I know exactly what I want and this is a means to get it. I don't really know what I want, but I'm confident something will prevent us from leaving the terminal.

Last night it hit me. This... all this right here... was where I am supposed to be. I'm scared, if not utterly frightened of taking the risk.

In the big overview of my life, sure I could mean Pittsburgh. Though there isn't a day when there's less than one compliment I can give this shitty town... it's home. It's filled my life with bitter and sweet memories. I could never leave permanently. There's too much to lose. And at this exact moment... I'm not willing to lose what I have in my hands, if I have the balls to take it. Or at the very least finally show this person I am willing to sacrifice what I've thought I needed for what I know I've needed... wanted for years.

In the smaller, less grand scope of my world... I mean here. Here in this particular loft, with this very man... on this exact bed that I've fantasized about too many times to count.

I'm seated on the comforter and blankets, Indian style. I've been awake for awhile. I've watched him sleep many times before, but this one time seems poignant. It's five in the morning and I should be on my way to the airport. In a little over two hours... I could be on a flight that leaves at 7:23am for Miami. From Miami is a leisurely 4hour cruise to this island retreat. I'm just not sure I'll be putting one foot on that plane.

I have this insane idea that once I'm in the moment, in the last few seconds of choosing, whichever way I go will, ultimately, decide my fate. My future will depend on who I turn to... Ben, my husband, or Brian, my best friend.

Should I go on this belated honeymoon and keep working at improving my marriage, letting Ben know how much I still love him and my commitment is real? Or do I put everything on the line... leaving Ben at the terminal, giving up on our marriage and making sure he knows how much I love and want Brian?

I'm not ecstatic about being here, caught in this "limbo", of sorts. It should be a no brainer, but for me... this can't be decided just because I like one over the other. I love and adore both men. I'm hoping that at the flight's gate, it'll wash over me. I will come to this epiphany and I will know, for sure, who I am destined to be with. I guess I'm too scared to choose on my own, I feel like I need motivation or some kind of "umph".

I do know what I want to happen. Now I know in order to get what I want I have to make certain people hurt, but before I do that I want them all on the same page as me. Because if I choose one man over the other I don't want the one left behind to think he's losing or that I love him any less.

In a perfect world, everyone would get along. It wouldn't look like I had to choose a side and no one would hate me. We don't live in a perfect world, so I'll take what I can get.

"FUCK!" Brian grumbles as he stretches and curls, waking up from a dead sleep. "Is it THAT time already?" He mumbles as he picks up his head from the pillows. He can barely see in the bedroom. I didn't turn on the lights, there's only the bluish glow from the loft's windows from early morning. He's been laying on his stomach, right arm bent to encircle my missing frame.

I can see where I once was, an hour ago, tucked to Brian's side. He bunches up the pillow I used and rests his head down on the plushness. A hand comes out from beneath layers of sheets to clamp on my thigh and upper knee.

"Shit!" I feel his hand through the thick denim, rubbing the flesh. "You even got dressed. Such a nice boy..." He teases me as he plasters his left cheek to the pillow case. He looks up at me with one lone, pretty hazel eye. His nose and lips are smooshed to the right.

"I'll call you from the airport... once I know..." It's all I have to give him.

"ONCE you know?" He closes both eyes, sighing heavily. "Christ! You're killing me, Michael." I know it's taken every ounce of Brian's pride and strength to not go haywire, to demand things from me.

I can't let Brian know he has control over me. I AM my own man, but I sure wouldn't mind his company. I place my palm over top of his hand. "It's not fair to you or Ben to know before the other. I have to go through with this scenario to be assured myself. Hell... I'm not as confident as you think I might be. I won't be 100% sure until that zero hour."

Brian lifts his head up, frowning and pursing his lips. "Something tells me you showing up at the terminal gives Ben the wrong idea. A false sense of hope, maybe." He shakes his head slowly, averting his eyes. "I don't want him to think he has any advantages over me."

I find it kind of adorable that Brian has this ridiculous notion his world will crumble if I don't pick him. He's always been good at competition and he hates that he doesn't know what's happening in my head. I reach my hand out to flatten his spiky hair, then caress his stubbled cheeks. "Why? You think he'll find a way to brainwash me and keep me by his side forever?"

"Well, he's done it before. He's blond.. tanner than me... washboard abs with a definite six-pack... he's got broader shoulders... deadly thighs of steel..."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were considering asking him out."

Brian shakes his head to disagree. "Had him. It was enough." He makes a face as if disgusted. "What Benji does to his body, to stay fit and healthy... it fades over time."

"He's not a natural beauty like you are." I tease Brian, watching him roll his eyes.

"Years of pot, Special K and 'E'... plus the addition of beer and hard liquor... not to mention hours upon hours of physical release... I'm still as gorgeous as ever..."

"Not a modest bone in your body." I crack up with laughter.

Brian pushes his torso upright, almost prepared to sit on the bed with me. "I've worked hard to maintain this perfection... looking this good at my young age..."

The words he keeps saying make me shake my head and laugh even more. "I gotta go." I attempt to get off the mattress, but Brian, literally, yanks me back on the bed. He puts me, seated on the space I occupied while we slept, with my head on the wall, my back cupped in the array of pillows. He's now crawling on top of me.

Wait... that's a little too graphic for what he's actually doing. He's naked, I'm clothed. No funny business.

"NO... you don't." The conviction in his voice tells me how pissed he is. He squishes himself, backside first, making room in between my legs. He drags over only the comforter and tucks the material all around us, under my legs and bottom. "That's what I've been telling you. Stay. Let's close our eyes a little longer, then fuck..." He slinks down on the mattress, sliding down my body. His head is, like, mid-sternum on my heaving chest. I'm going to get over heated in a minute, being under all this body heat and cotton fabric.

Brian and I have always strangely fit together, no matter who was holding who. I send my arm across Brian's upper chest, pulling him to me. My face nudges the left side of his head, near his ear. "I'm tempted..." God dammit... that's so true. I can still smell him... us... the bed... everything. It's all potent, mixed together. This is all mine if I want it... which I do, but I can't. I owe it to Ben to look him in the eyes, face to face and tell him my final decision. "... but..." I kiss Brian on the neck, sliding my mouth down his bare shoulder, to the rounded joint. "... if I don't do this now it won't get done right. Everyone will wonder if I was more influenced by being in bed with you and not even giving Ben a chance."

Brian clamps one hand on my forearm. "You're already giving him more than he deserves. Last thing you need is a big man like him begging and pleading in public."

I nuzzle my cheek to his hair, Brian pushes back. "He already explained what happened with Neil that night. All innocent and a misunderstanding."

"How many times will that response work... until it sounds plausible?" Brian reaches over and picks up my other arm, wrapping them both around him. "He took the pussy way out. You and I both know he got attached. You even know he got eager. Some PYT (pretty, young twink) thinking the Old Skeezer Professor was hot... it's a turn on any man our age or older would want. Hell... you know what I'd do with a young man like Neil. Your husband is no different." He chuckles deeply, moving his hands to tuck the blankets further under us, imprisoning our bodies together. "He'd like you to think he isn't, but he can fall off that high-horse as easily as people keep putting him on."

I dip low to whisper into Brian's ear. "You're not convincing me of anything, Brian."

He stops paying me any attention. "And I bet that whole HIV-Poz thing can be quite the attention getter. Kind of like walking up to some random, sexy stranger and saying... ' _The end of the world is tomorrow. Wanna have sex?'_."

"Excuse me!" I had to laugh, only because it's something that has crossed my mind many times. Since Ben won't discuss a lot about HIV with me and from what I know with Uncle Vic. There are some desperate times when you're sick, when you need touch and companionship.

"He's got an instant 'halo'. All is forgiven because he's... knock, knock, knocking on Heaven's door."

"I know what you're saying, but that's never been a factor for me. As a Pro or Con. And it's stupid to speculate when I know nothing of the real truth. I only end up making an ass of myself if I'm wrong or hurting myself when it wasn't necessary. "

"I don't know... could make the truth hurt a little less." Brian shrugs, beginning to play with my hands, skimming over and between the fingers, like he's never seen them before. Or maybe he's reminded of where they were last night, all over his body.

What am I thinking? I lean my forehead on Brian's hair. If I don't leave now he's liable to kill me, in some manner, from a aneurysm or a coronary. "I think you're wrong. I'm not saying he's a saint, but he's not like you, either." I feel Brian's body flinch when I say that. I think I mean the way Brian used to be, because he has toned himself down some.

"Ben prides himself in NOT appearing sick, so you're distracted by the perfection on the outside."

"I know Ben has flaws. We're not the Cleavers or Ozzie and Harriet. We fight like any normal, straight couple."

"And I'm not suggesting you don't." Brian's frustrating himself. "I guess what I am saying is... don't be fooled or tricked into thinking he's not at fault, that everything's your responsibility." He tries to adjust himself, turning on his side. "You sometimes have to wonder what people are really hiding when they start to change all the surface, visible stuff..." He roams a hand over his face and upper body. "... and they don't bother admitting to who and what they really are. Even if it's only to themselves." He mutters the last portion, planting his cheek down on my abdomen. He's hugging me tight to his chest with one arm, the other arm tucked in between my thighs.

"You need to stop saving me, Brian." I bring my hands up to brush through the mahogany locks, pushing them back from the pale forehead. "I'm a big boy and I can make all those big boy decisions on my own." I wish he was face to face with me, hovering over my body. I feel like kissing away his fears.

"I'm still taking the day off." He's hugging my left thigh right now. His form is actually twisting again. "Even though you won't let me go with you... or stalk you properly..." He's fully turned now, body facing mine. One hand fists in the bedding, about to raise himself upward to align with mine.

I cup his face in my palms. "The visions have stopped, right? Vic's really gone?" Brian nods with a tortured groan as he bends to my lips. He kisses me, on the bare outskirts of my mouth. "So then... we've already decided that... it was the sole reason for Vic coming back. No need to protect me any further. There isn't a need to bore yourself here. The hours go by faster if you keep yourself busy." I kiss him properly, but it's feather light with slight pressure. I have to pull away or I'll be sucked back in.

"Which is why I'm bringing the ads we worked on into the restaurant. The owner's coming to see them. All our hard work." He dips his head and body, tempting me back into his hold. "I'll spend half the day there, have some lunch, but I can..."

"... save some food for me. You were going to ask me to lunch? To join you even when you don't know where I'll be today... until I call you?" I can see I didn't make Brian any happier or sadder. He went absolutely quiet and still. "It's a nice thought. To think that years down the line... this could be our routine, in the mornings..."

That admission made Brian smile, made him kiss my neck, lick along my collarbone, move my shirt collar to suckle my shoulder. "I would... if I only knew what you were thinking..." He looks into my eyes, but he can't even decipher what they show him. He's too caught up in the moment, of wanting me and needing my answers.

"Nope." I whisper on Brian's skin. "Can't get me to confess. Too early."

"Bullshit..." Brian mumbles, aggravated he hasn't been able to change my mind about leaving. He tucks his own body around me, locking me to him. "I know you too well, Mikey. You already DO know... you're too scared to tell me... even if it's barely told in my ear..."

"Oh, yeah? How do you know for sure?"

"The way you can't leave me." He pulls back enough to make our faces mere inches apart, breathes mingling, bodies as one and arms about one another. As it should have always been. "Had you actually chosen Mr. All American Meathead over me..." I'm sorry... I had to snicker. It was funny. "... you would have been long gone from this bed and off to the airport."

"Maybe..." I secure my arms about his neck, latching one hand about my wrist. "... but maybe I didn't, you know, pick you after all. I'm only trying to soften the blow, give you more time to cherish what you'll be missing, before I leave." He was shaking his head even before I finished talking. "... for three weeks..."

Brian quirks one eyebrow, the move I love dearly... and he smiles with one side of his mouth as he bends over me to end our conversation and use this time we have wisely.

I did finally leave, but it was under much duress and provocative pleading on Brian's part. I've never seen him this worried. It's nice to know how much I'm really wanted... and, possibly, loved?

~*~

It's strange how life works itself out on foolish whims.

In the span of me arriving here, at the Miami flight's gate, my entire world flipped upside down. What I thought as truth wasn't, what I thought was false was true. Yes, I know, confusing, bear with me.

I don't feel any different. Wait, I do. I've been enlightened. I even feel like a weight of guilt has been lifted. Most likely the one I lump on my shoulders too many times to count. I should be more pissed, I should be livid. Instead, I'm actually having my eyes widely opened, thanks to my wonderful, thoughtful and loving asshole bastard of a husband.

I can admit to what I'm really feeling, deep inside. I feel inner joy, some peace finally and a whole helluva lot of optimism usually sparse at this time.

Upon arrival to the terminal, I discovered Ben and I would be stuck in this place for three hours. The original flight was delayed because of an imminent tropical storm hitting the coast of Florida. And, apparently with Ben's consent, we were bumped up to First Class seating on a later flight. I still left Check In, both my carry on bags containing everything I had planned on bringing with me, no matter what I decided.

I am truly grateful for what occurred next. Normally I would be angry and internalize my feelings for a private moment. The circumstances of me being not only taken by surprise on an intense level, but also the rug being pulled out from under me before I could steady my feet. The incident happened a few minutes ago and it sealed my fate, like I had thought it would.

If I left this airport with Ben on that flight to Miami, no matter what time, I'd be making the biggest mistake of my life. Not only for me, but for everybody involved, including the man I'm staring at seated in front of me.

I thought I knew him. I thought I was beginning to get to know or on my way to knowing him like I know Brian. Isn't that what being in love means? Isn't that the pure essence of what being a couple means? Am I wrong to even make assumptions like that?

Fuck! Why is this shit so much more easier... surely no less painful... with Brian? At least with him, the reasoning is sensible and it's pretty much been exactly what usually happens, so I expect to be hurt. With Ben, I don't know why, but I thought there was a huge gap there. I expected more and got even less.

At least Brian didn't propose and marry me. He didn't stand before God, Man and my family and friends proclaiming me HIS by making delusional promises that all our commitment vows contained. Ben allowed me to keep dreaming, while Brian knew when to wake me up.

This very second, I'm seated across from Ben, in the waiting area of the new flight's gate. I HAD to move to this chair because I was becoming agitated sitting beside Ben, watching him read today's newspaper as if nothing had gone on. Like there was nothing to discuss concerning what I had learned less than twenty minutes ago by some complete stranger. A complete stranger to me, Ben's been "seeing" her for six weeks.

The last minute breaking news was that my marriage was in a shambles. I was told that I needed to open up to my husband more and stop keeping my feelings inside. Marriage was all about sharing and Ben feels like he's given more than enough. I don't make Ben feel... what was that pesky word she said... "useful" as a partner. We fight more often than we have sex... which is true, but the fact that the sex is more of a "loser's prize" made me cringe. HER words, not mine. Ben hasn't mentioned any of this to me because he was afraid I'd... I don't know... implode or explode and things would worsen before they got better. So he saw this female therapist, who dabbles in what she called "couple's rejuvenation therapy", for about six weeks in hopes of preparing for this very moment.

I guess you could term it a marriage "intervention", but... all I saw was that I was snowballed by the man I thought who loved me and a woman who knew entirely too much about my life and marriage for me to feel comfortable talking to her. The "vacation" isn't a "honeymoon". It's a desperate attempt on Ben's part to coerce me into some deranged "summer camp" for married adults who need a bit of TLC for their relationships.

I just need to find another way home.

I found out I am NOT the "bad guy" nor am I fully to blame. But having a six-foot tall Norwegian female ex-athlete try to tell me to add more "spice" and "romance" to my marriage was the last "umph" I needed to hear to help me know... I had to leave now. All I had to do was tell Ben everything, open the door, slam it shut and walk away.

"When were you planning on telling me?" I cannot believe he won't look at me. What just happened is pretty crucial and detrimental to what will occur next.

Ben glances up from his curled newspaper. "Tell you what?"

I'm not sure I hear him correctly. It's almost as if I can't penetrate Ben's "emotional shield". He appears even angrier than I am. "Your whole reason for planning this trip. What? Did you want to make me feel like a complete idiot?"

"I wanted you to finally pay attention to ME, for once." He goes back to reading. "What other reason could there be?"

I'm fairly confused. Maybe I'm going deaf or something. "Excuse me?" This is all news to me.

"You..." He looks over at me over his eyeglasses, still making like he's reading the newspaper. "... can't stop thinking about him. Even when you're with me."

"And that's cause to break our marriage up?" Ben sighs and slams down the paper on his lap, which makes me twinge. I'm a little ticked he's so pissed at ME. "Do you truly believe our marriage was falling apart" Ben simply stares at me. "I thought we were doing alright."

"Alright..." Ben shakes his head sadly. "... should never be good enough."

"You never told me any different. You never even said what I was doing was all for nothing."

"What you were doing wasn't for nothing. It showed me you actually cared that things weren't great between us..." Ben paused for too long.

"But... what?" I know there has to be more he's not saying. He'll never completely let me in, yet he expects me to give him everything of me? What kind of compromise is that?

"Michael..." Ben sits forward in his chair, fingers threaded, eyes intent on my face. "... I didn't mean to ambush you here, at the airport, if that's what you think. Elena told me she'd see us off, but I had no idea she'd say those things. I didn't even know we'd be eligible for those First Class upgrades at the time we made the arrangements."

"Are you saying we could have been IN the air sooner and I'd never had known why I was going on this trip?" That has to be the exact reason. I can even see it in the way Ben averts his head to rub at his jaw. "Where were you, by the way? You told me you were on your way, but I showed up here first."

"I was... making sure things at my office were squared away." Ben sits back, his hands grip his upper knees tight. "While I was there one of my students popped in. We got to talking and I lost track of time." He waved his hand in the air like it made no difference. "I've already apologized, like... a thousand times."

Funny... feels like only 700 hundred to me and some didn't even feel that heartfelt. "Then I guess it's in our favor the flight's delayed... and we were able to get new seats."

"Elena did all that." Ben goes quiet, his head looking out the huge wall of glass onto the crowded tarmac. He's starting to feel trapped, caught in that "maze" again, with no way out.

I kind of enjoy knowing all I have to do is say one thing and it'll all be alright for him again. I feel like watching him squirm. "Was it Neil?"

Ben wrinkles his brow in confusion. "Was what Neil?"

"Neil... the new member of your HIV support group you've mentioned once or twice. You never told me he was your student."

"He's not. He takes classes with a fellow professor I work with."

"That's a relief." I roll my eyes for effect.

"Why do you say it like that?"

"All this time you've been getting to know Neil, while I've been busting my ass with our relationship. If you didn't like what I was doing... you should've told me to stop. Not that I'd have made less of a fool of myself, but it would've been kind of you." I can almost see that Ben is afraid I'll tear down Neil. I can't do that, picking on someone for being ill isn't right. What they DO when they are sick, that's what I have a problem with. "You've grown more than closer to that young man, more than you're willing to admit. It's just better to blame me... for my relationship with Brian." It's more obvious now when Ben speaks in half sentences and can't quite give me a clear reason behind what he's doing. The thing I can't understand is... there's a part of him that still loves me, that sees our marriage as viable... yet he won't be able to tear himself away from Neil and what they share to be with me.

"Michael... Neil's a newly diagnosed case. It's tough enough in college... much less dealing with being sick..." He can't talk anymore, rubbing a hand over his face. "You wouldn't understand."

I hate that condescending tone more than anything. Vic was never like this to me about his HIV. He let me in, he let me take care of him. Ben always... always wants to do things on his own. I wonder how our life would have been like had I been sick, too. Everyone always thinks about me looking beyond Ben's HIV status and cutting him some slack, but what about me and being healthy. I never thought there'd be a day where I could be hated and discriminated against for being a healthy, responsible gay man.

Ben's attempting to find ways to fight me, so he'll be forced to go on this trip. I'm not willing to do that. Is going away even worth the hassle it'll force us both to suffer? Not only is Ben not being fair to me, he's not letting himself breathe. I can tell it'll kill him to go on this retreat to repair a relationship he's not even sure he wants anymore.

"Call him." I can't believe I'm saying this with a straight face.

"Huh?"

"Neil. Call him." I hand him my phone.

Ben refuses to take it, pushing my arm away. "Wha-? I'm leaving... WE're leaving..."

I can't believe Ben's willing to do this, with the way he's feeling right now. He's upset with me, because he thinks we HAVE to go on this vacation to repair our marriage. I'm not even sure if he wants THAT anymore. There's no doubt in my mind he loves me, but does he want me the same way he now wants another man? A younger man who shares so much more similarities with him than I ever could.

"How far?" I play with my phone, unable to look at Ben.

"Pardon?"

"That wasn't just an innocent slip of the tongue with Neil the other night." This time I CAN look at Ben, but he can't look at me. "You wanted to do something... anything with him. How far were you thinking of going?"

"Nowhere. He's just... he's exactly where I was when I was diagnosed and... he needed a friend."

"Did you kiss him?"

"No."

"Liar."

"Whatever. Believe me or not... I want this to work out."

"Why?"

"Because we love each other... we're married... there's commitments we made and vows we took..."

"... and it's supposed to be what married couples do, huh? According to Elena? The rest of the world?"

"Michael... I may have thought about it, but I would never actually cheat on you."

"Why not? We're gay men. It's in our nature to be curious... to find other men attractive... to contemplate the need to stray..."

"It's not something I'd feel comfortable doing."

I look down at the floor, Brian on my mind. "I used to feel the same way."

"What does that mean?"

I stood up from my chair, looking down on Ben. "I'm not leaving this airport with you. Not now, not three hours from now." I saw his jaw drop, slightly. "You need someone to use my ticket. Call Neil. I'm sure he's been waiting to hear from you all morning after you left him." Ben closes his mouth and swallows hard. I don't know where I'm finding this nerve to talk. "I'm going over... there..." I use the hand my cell phone is in to point. "... to make a phone call. When I'm done, we'll talk a little more. I think this is for the best... to separate. Give ourselves three weeks to figure our shit out and realize where and who we want to be." I tap my watch and point to the wall clock. "Call him. He has just enough time to make it."

"Michael..." Ben calls out as I walk away from him.

I'm shocked I was so reasonable and civil. I simply wanted to stop fighting. I'm tired of fighting with him all the time. Sometimes it's better to let things go... even if one of those "things" is your husband and you're giving him permission to cheat on you.

I don't even feel terrible about what I've done with Brian. Why is that? Maybe it's because I've only been with Brian the last few days and Ben's been considering possibly cheating on me, with Neil, for awhile now. I don't know, but it looks like if this marriage doesn't last... neither of us will truly be left alone.

I've moved away from Ben, near to the huge wall of windows. I lean my left side on the pane and stare outside. I bring up my cell phone and push one button to dial the number already set inside the memory. I chuckle to myself because it only takes one ring for Brian to answer.

"Hel'o..." He already knows it's me. I can tell by his voice. It's deeper, richer and a little on the "bedroom" side.

"You got up? Out of the bed and loft?"

"Yup. Been to my office. Got the finished sketches and I am on my way to the restaurant as we speak." Brian coughs into his hand. "You didn't wake me when you left. When did you learn to be so stealthy?"

"Practice." I snicker in his ear, reaching out with my index finger to trace some letters on the glass. "Where are you now?"

"In the car. I meant to gas up a few nights ago, but... I got distracted." He said that like I was to blame for his voracious sexual needs. "Where are you?"

"Airport... still. The flight was delayed."

"Bummer." Brian grows silent, waiting for me to tell him the decision I made.

"Brian..." I raise my eyes to look out into the clear blue sky line.

"Wait... gimme a sec-..."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm just finding a place to pull off the road."

I chuckle under my breath, liking that Brian's keeping such a cool head about this whole situation. I wonder if he already knows it's him. It will always be HIM... in the end.

"Okay... please..." Brian puts the car in park. "... continue..."

I heave a huge sigh. "My marriage was over before I even got here."

There's silence, as if Brian opened his mouth but couldn't speak. "Wha-? Are you sure?"

"I mean... I haven't told Ben about us. Or anything to do with me, really."

"So... what happened?" He is as curious as he sounds.

"The vacation isn't a belated honeymoon. Ben needed to take me away to work on our marriage... or our falling apart relationship, according to him."

"Holy Hell, Michael! What in the world have you been dragged through now?"

I don't know why, but it's comforting to know Brian's on my side, but not taking it out on Ben. Usually Brian would find a way to tear Ben to pieces. Somehow Brian's been able to see that none of us are good people in this entire mess. He did the same thing with David. Once he finds out that the men in my life are just like him... horny as hell, he gains more confidence.

I told Brian the whole sordid story, from my arrival to the airport up to the second I called him. He already knew about my suspicions about Neil, so it didn't take much for him to understand what was about to happen.

"God Damn, Michael! I swear... only you..."

"I know. It's crazy-ridiculous. I asked for some help in being able to tell Ben about you and me, but... jesus... I didn't expect this much help."

"You knew you'd pick me even before you left?" Brian sounds torn between shock and pride.

I sigh, turning to lean back on the lining surrounding the window. "I'd be a complete fucktard if I didn't say that I knew things couldn't easily be put back together between Ben and I. It kept getting more difficult to patch things up after the fights and battles we had. I know marriage is supposed to have it's ups and downs, but I felt like I was the only one putting forth some effort. And from his viewpoint, Ben felt the same way, too. I didn't realize we were drifting apart this badly. Maybe this is a time when... it's best if we just separate and walk away. Figure out what we are, where our heads are at and where we wanna be in the long term."

"For how long?"

"I don't know, really depends on what happens in the next three weeks."

Brian sighs in my ear. He's probably squeezing his eyes shut or pinching that space between his eyebrows and looking as if he's concentrating hard. I wish I could give him better statistics, but I've never even tried to start a closer relationship with Brian to know my odds in being a couple with him.

"It's all on me, isn't it?"

"Brian, don't..."

"Hey! Shut up! I know what I know and I can hear it in your voice."

"Don't be angry."

"I'm not. I'm just..." Brian seems a little frustrated. "I wish this was easier for you. Like I could have that confidence in us... in myself... that you've always had. I can't even tell you what will happen to me tomorrow, much less ten years from now."

"Well, I DO know." I hope he can hear the wide smile on my face. "You'll be Brian -Fuckin'-Kinney... and that is who you always are with me. It's my problem to deal with if my expectations don't get met. I should know what I'm walking in on. I don't want you to be any different."

"Look... you know you got a place with me, wherever you decide to go for these three weeks. If you need time by yourself, by all means, take it. As long as I know I still have a shot."

"Oh... I think I'll do you one better."

"What do you mean?"

"I've got everything with me I was planning to take on this trip. It's not going to be any extra hassle for me to pretend like I'm on vacation... with you... in the loft..."

"Michael..."

"I'm tiny. I barely take up any room. I'll live out of my bags for you. You won't even know I'm there."

"That's the problem."

"What?"

"I WANT to know you're there."

"Brian..." I wipe my brow of some slight sweat. I could almost take that as a commitment from Brian.

"What?"

"Is this 'us'? Is this really you and me... for years to come?"

"Why?" Brian snickers, he turns his blinker on to get back into traffic. "You don't like it?"

"No. Don't get me wrong. I love it. I just... I thought this would be different. We'd be different." I'm sure Brian's furrowing his brow, wondering where the hell I'm going with this line of conversation. "Not that we'd be volatile or at one another's throats because we're not alike, but... christ, this is almost way too..."

"Easy? Simple? Normal? How we always are, but with a bit more cocksucking and penetration?"

"Well, if you want to put it that way... yeah..."

"I've always been one to not mince my words." Brian clears his throat. "You got plans for tonight?"

"You know I don't." I bark at him with some laughter behind my voice. "When I leave here I was thinking about stopping off at Red Cape and checking on a few outstanding issues."

"You still going to go through with the renovations?"

"Yeah. Now more than ever." Brian had offered to chip in some cash to help out a few days ago, get the best carpenter to build the expansion to the store. Of course I refused, because I can't take his money and not feel like I owe him. I need, and want, to do all this on my own. Brian couldn't have been more proud of my tenacity in my success. When I told him "no" I thought he'd be angry and tear me down, but instead he laughed his ass off and told me I looked like an adorable pit bull. I guess that's the kind of romantic, sentimental crap I have to look forward to. I've grown used to it though. " Nothing like knocking down walls and making more space, with fresh coats of paint in the rooms to start a new adventure."

"... what else?" He's trying to get me to say something revealing, like _"I love you, Brian Kinney. I'll be your slave day and night."_ , but I won't do that until he gives me a little more of what I want.

"Well, let's see..." I tap a finger on my chin. "Hmmm... probably call Em and Teddy, see if they want to take in some supper. I backed out on them last night to spend time with you. I'll possibly hit Woody's or Babylon." I shake my head in wild wonder. "Man, it's been awhile since I've been to either place. Especially all wide-eyed and bushy-tailed in my old bachelorhood."

"Excuse me?!"

Uh, oh... someone's jealous.

"Oh, sorry. Was there something I forgot?"

"... me... ME!!" Brian speaks in a small, quiet voice at first and then his voice cracks on the last one.

"Oh... of course... you... There's always room to pencil you in on my schedule."

"Uhm... no! You won't 'pencil' me in anywhere. You won't be calling anyone, not even Emmett and Ted. Once you're done with the store you're coming straight to me. You go home, where I can chain you up properly to my bed. You don't make one move, except to take off all your... no, wait... just lay on the bed... I'll do the rest, but you wait for me. Me... me, me... me." His voice was a tad full of itself. "I knew I never should of let you leave this morning."

I'm far beyond elated to hear what he's saying. "If it's any consolation I hated leaving you." I turn back to the window and lean my forehead on the glass. "You were so warm..." I lower my voice for the right effect."... and cozy... like you were back inside me..." I hear Brian swear under his breath, almost losing control of the steering wheel. "I could have slept beside you for days."

Brian takes a long time to cough and clear his throat. "Me, uh... too." He barely speaks coherently.

"I'll see you soon, huh?"

"Yeah... I just found a gas station. I'll only be at the restaurant for about an hour."

"Then I guess we'll meet at the loft."

"... and I guess that's couple-speak for ending this phone conversation..."

"We don't have to. I don't mind listening to you all day... or if you just want to breathe in my ear. That's okay, too."

"Michael..."

"Mmmmm?"

"You're The One."

"The one... what?" I'm pretending to be oblivious.

"You're HIM."

"Who HIM?" I'm teasing Brian and he sounds edgy. I already know what this means. I close my eyes in utter bliss. Brian couldn't have said anything more perfect. "Is that good?"

"In MY book, that is fuckin' exceptional."

"Brian..."

"Yup?"

"To be continued..."

"Bye, Michael." I can hear the smile in Brian's voice.

"Later, Brian."

We both hang up and I look around, taking in a deep breath. Ben is walking toward me, so I cross my hands, keeping my arms down in front of me. My cell phone is warm in my sweaty palms. He looks as if he's prepared some speech he's about to recite. I can't wait to hear what he has to say. I don't even know if I want to hear it at all. I really just want to leave.

"Michael... we need to talk..." He tucks his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

I glance down at the carpeted floor, then back up to his face. He's still a very beautiful man. He always will be. And I will still never know why he came to love me... Michael Novotny. I was very lucky for a little while there and I will always be grateful for the son he brought into my life.

"I was with Brian last night." Wow! I didn't even expect to spit it out like that.

"Huh?"

"In fact... I've been with him several times and I don't mean only in the sense of friendship."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm leaving you, Ben. I was never going on that flight. I guess I always knew that but I had this... freaky idea I had to push myself to the full limit. And I see it paid off in a big way. You were right... our marriage hasn't been the best, for either of us."

"You're leaving me? For Brian Kinney?"

I shrug, not sure I should divulge everything to Ben. He doesn't have the privilege anymore to know me. He took that right away from himself quite awhile ago.

Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice shame on me. I can't do this to myself again.

A desk clerk from the flight gate wandered over. "Mr. Bruckner, I have an update for you..."

Ben looks down at me and I move my head to show him he could walk away. I wasn't about to stick around. I can't be here anymore, I have to leave or my head will explode and I'll cry.

And I can't let Ben see me cry. I won't allow him to know how much he hurt, shamed and humbled me in one sitting. It will be awhile before I can be with him face to face again. Maybe I'll feel different after three weeks.

~*~*~

The minute I park and exit my car, I am aware that someone is waiting for me outside Red Cape's front door, under the tiny overhang. It's Emmett, seated in one of those cheap folding chairs people normally purchase when they're waiting for a parade to come down the street. He looks quite comfortable, like he may have been here awhile. He's got his head tilted back on the cinder blocks of the building, sunglasses perched on his nose and hands folded over his stomach. He could be asleep or barely awake, but he looks like he's been here for longer than he meant to be.

I feel like apologizing, but naturally I was supposed to be thousands of feet in the air three hours ago. I didn't even know he had made arrangements with me to stop by the store this morning. The fact I'm pulling out my store keys and jangling them probably clues Emmett in the fact I didn't go anywhere, anywhere with Ben.

I walk up to the gate, placing the key inside the lock. Emmett moves his chair and satchel, his hands outstretched to help me open the gate first. "What are you doing here?" Once he lets go of the gate, he bends down to pick up his bag, crossing the strap over his chest.

"I could say the same for you, sweetie." I feel Emmett's hand cup my shoulder, then rub down my back. He's always been a touchy-feely person, but it never fails to make me jump a little inside my skin. I'm used to the two extremes of attention; the ones from Ma, that start with a hard swat to my head and end with a sloppy kiss on the cheek, or the ones from Brian, that usually start by kissing me senselessly and ending with him feeling me up. Emmett may be a flaming homo, but he's subdued when it comes to people he genuinely loves.

He then folds the chair back up, perfectly. He leans that object on the wall, like he found it on the street, somewhere. The last things he squats down for are two cups of coffee and a bag of greasy donuts or some equally, sugary-sweet breakfast desserts.

I walk toward the front door, unlocking the dead bolt. I use my entire body to hold the door for Emmett, allowing him entrance. Once he's past me, I move to pick up his cute mobile chair, bringing it into the store. I just lean it along the wall so he doesn't forget it when he leaves. "I didn't get on the plane."

Emmett wanders all the way toward the cashier counter, placing down everything in his hands. He took off his bag, setting it down on the floor, up against the counter casing. "Really? Thank you, Captain Obvious." He tucks his hands inside his jacket, looking around the store like he hasn't been here in awhile.

I actually can't recall when he was here last. I walk behind the register, setting my backpack down. I begin digging around under the counters, on the shelves. I'm here for something specific. "Sooo... why are you here?"

Emmett stands in the center of the room, staring over at me. "Must be quite some story to tell." He spreads his arms out wide. "Honey, you know I'm all ears." He gently tugs on his own ear lobes.

"Sorry." I shrug weakly, needing to bend down completely to the floor. I've managed to push what I wanted all the way in the back of the shelf. "I'm all talked out."

"I brought you coffee..." Emmett plops the coffee cup further toward me, then picks up the greasy white paper bag of food. "... and delicious breakfast treats." He makes sure once the paper touches the glass counter he can open the bag and let out all the fresh bakery smells.

"I'll take the coffee, gratefully..." I do feel a little underwhelmed and exhausted. I've had too long of a morning. I mostly think it's inner turmoil and stress wearing me down. "... but I'm not hungry." I push the bag toward Emmett as I stand back up. I've got the folder of all my Red Cape renovation ideas. I think I even have the few phone numbers of all the general contractors who showed an interest in my project.

"Fine." Emmett grumbles, rolling the bag closed and placing it next to his half-filled coffee cup. "I need the extra flab on my hiney anyway."

I can see he's feeling majorly rejected, like he thinks I don't want him here. I wasn't expecting him. I thought I'd be alone to deal with what's gone on and what was piling up in my head. "I'm glad you did show up." I clear my throat, grinning widely. "I wanted to apologize for backing out on your farewell event."

"No biggie." He was hiding his hurt. "I got to watch Ted get kicked to the curb, three times in a row, while I scored five numbers for possible future dates." He attempted to smile, but it didn't make his face glow at all.

"Niiiiiice."

"You'd think, but even THAT can get old after awhile. Teddy fuckin' runs Babylon... and he still can't score guys." He shakes his head in sadness. "Sometimes I don't know what's wrong with men."

I have to laugh. "Then I'm double apologetic." I reach across the counter to soothe my hand down Emmett's arm. When I go to pull back, he clamps a hand on top of mine.

"Well... did you have fun?"

I tug my hand, but Emmett has a strong hold on me. "With?"

"Whomever you ditched me for." He finally lets me go, then leans over to rest his chin on his hand. "Did Ben take you out shopping for a new wardrobe for the trip?"

"No. I stayed in. Ben went to workout with some friends."

He raises his eyebrows. "He does that a lot doesn't he?" He didn't allow me to answer him before he pouts. "You should've called me. I would've come over."

"I wasn't home... and I wasn't alone." I left my response at that, not sure I should reveal the news to Emmett.

"You weren't? Well... I'm a little curious AND a tad bit jealous. Who were you with and what were you two...?'

"Brian."

"Oh." Emmett's voice got small, unimpressed. He waves his hand in the air. "Then I already know what you did."

"No..." I shook my head with a snicker. "... you don't."

"Sweetie... you and Brian are like a broken record."

I don't know why, but that just sounds offensive to me. It's true, but when your best friend blurts it out with some sarcasm laced on it... seems hurtful. "Not this time." I push off from the counter, intent on moving to the office in the back. I want to grab the drawn floor plans of the improvements. I need everything with me when I make my phone calls today. I rolled the plans up and stuck them in a corner of the room. I bring them out with me, shutting the door.

"Then wha-?" Emmett was about to rip off some witty comment when his mind went through some ideas all by itself without my help. "Are you sayin-?" He furrows his brow in befuddlement, not sure he wanted to say more. "Wait. What are you saying?"

"The long story is too long." I don't want to be here all day with Emmett. I love him, but I've probably got a man waiting for me at the loft. "I'm not opening the store for three weeks, like I planned before I was going on this trip." I lifted one lone eyebrow. "I can give you the short version."

Damn... I can feel the redness rising to my face. I can't stop the smile from emerging. Emmett will know right away and I won't be able to hide anything.

"I MIGHT be able to only take the short version." Emmett rubs his hands together to prepare for the juicy gossip. "C'mon... spit it out, Michael!!" He's practically jumping in that one spot with eagerness.

"Brian and I... we finally..."

The bell above Red Cape's door jangles. I forgot to lock it behind Emmett. I was about ready to tell the person we weren't open for business, when I recognize the face. I smiled broadly, walking toward the man entering my business. It had been way too long since I last saw him, hard to believe I actually found I missed him.

"Carl..." I hold out my hand for him to shake. His grip is slightly sweaty, like he's nervous. I'm not sure what he has to say is good news. "... what brings you around this neck of my woods?" I clamp one hand on my right biceps, rubbing up and down.

Carl moves one step forward, then one step back, placing his hands inside his trenchcoat's pockets. He looks as if he's not sure if this was a great idea to come to me face to face with whatever he's got to tell me. "I wish I had a better excuse in coming to see you, Michael."

Okay... that was too ominous. I swallow hard and blink a few times. I still manage to smile. "What do you mean?" I can feel Emmett approaching me from the back.

"I need you to come with me... to the hospital." He nods his head, attempting to smile, but it's vanishing quick.

"Why? Is it...?" I put a hand to my chest. "Is it... my Mom?"

"No, son." Carl steps forward, rough hand on my right shoulder. "It's Brian."

Emmett is right behind me, his hand on my left shoulder, caressing down my back. "Oh... my gawd..." He covers his mouth with his other hand.

"Brian?" I laugh nervously, quirking up one side of my mouth. "But I just...?" I point my thumb over my shoulder, gesturing to the few hours ago I talked to Brian on my cell phone. His deep voice resonating in my ear. "... I just talked to him, awhile ago... before I came here..." I look down at the floor trying to comprehend what could have occurred so fast to send Brian to the hospital.

"Look... I'm sorry I'm the bearer of such bad news, but they had every detective at the scene. I recognized Brian's name as one of the injured being air-vac'd to the Emergency Room. They need Brian's next of kin there or his emergency contact... both of which is you..."

"His WHAT?!" I cannot believe I'm hearing this.

"Carl, he's not..." Emmett can't even say the words he wants to ask. He's completely behind me now. One hand is clamped on my left shoulder and he's cradling me under his arm, his body wrapped about me. Funny, I don't feel his usual warmth seeping into me.

"No... he's not, Emmett." Carl nods toward Emmett, then turns his gaze back to me. "He's critical, but they got him stabilized. I don't know for how long. I left once they had him in the helicopter on the way to the hospital."

"What?!" I can't fathom what the hell happened in so little amount of time. "How did he...?" I'm not sure if I can do this on my own. I knew this day would come, but not in this manner. Certainly not this quickly. "I just got off the phone with him..." I know I'm muttering nonsense, repeating myself, but you never know... you never know when you'll have someone right there... turn and lose sight of them in the next second. You never, ever know... nor are you prepared in how to properly take it all in when they might not be there anymore.

Emmett hugs me to him, kisses my hair and pats my back in reassurance. "Carl, what happened?"

Right then... like a flash of lightning... I knew. Not specifics, not the exact circumstances, but I know the "real" Brian Kinney. "He tried to be the superhero..." I barely said the words, but both men were close enough to hear me. They grow quiet when they see the tears pooling in my eyes, the way my lips trembled as I spoke.

Carl and Emmett look at me as if I've grown two heads. They don't know how to respond to me. That's okay. I know Brian. It's the only thing that will keep me strong through this whole ordeal.

I close my eyes, letting this inner mantra begin to form in my head. _"Please, Brian, hold on long enough... don't let go before I get to see you... hold on, don't let go... hold on, don't let go..."_

  
 **~*~*~THE END**


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